PHROSO 

By  ANTHONY  HOPE 
Author  of  "The  Heart  of  Princess  Osra" 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY ,  LOS  1NGULES 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi. 

130.) 


PHROSO 


By 

ANTHONY  HOPE 

Author  of 

"The  Prisoner  of  Zenda,"  "The  Heart  of 
Princess  Osra,"  Etc. 


BUCKINGHAM  EDITION 


FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
Publishers,  -         -         New  York 


Copyright,  J896 
By  A.  H.  Hawkins 

Copyright,  1897 
By  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


CONTENTS. 


"AP-  PAGE 

I.  A  Long  Thing;  Ending  in  -poulos.  \ 

II.  A  Conservative  Country  20 

III.  The  Fever  of  Neopalia  4J 

IV.  A  Raid  and  a  Raider  60 
V.  The  Cottage  on  the  Hill  79 

VI.  The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander      97 

VII.  The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi  H7 
VIE.  A  Knife  at  a  Rope  J36 

IX.  Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon !  J54 

X.  The  Justice  of  the  Island  J76 

XL  The  Last  Card  J95 

XH.  Law  and  Order  2J3 

XIII.  The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha  233 

XIV.  A  Stroke  in  the  Game  254 
XV.  A  Strange  Escape  274 

XVI.  An  Unfinished  Letter  294 

XVII.  In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap  3J5 

XVIII.  The  Unknown  Friend  336 

XIX.  The  Armenian  Dog!  353 

XX.  A  Public  Promise  374 

XXL  A  Word  of  Various  Meanings  394 

XXH.  One  More  Run  4J5 

XXIII.  The  Island  in  a  Calm  435 


2136141   I 


Phroso:  A  Romance* 

BY  ANTHONY  HOPE. 

ot 

CHAPTER  I. 
A  Long:  Thing-  Ending-  in  -poulos, 

Quot  homines  tot  sententia  :  so  many  men,  so 
many  fancies.  My  fancy  was  for  an  island. 
Perhaps  boyhood's  glamour  hung  yet  round  sea- 
girt rocks,  and  "  faery  lands  forlorn  "  still  beck- 
oned me ;  perhaps  I  felt  that  London  was  too 
full,  the  Highlands  rather  fuller,  the  Swiss  moun- 
tains most  insufferably  crowded  of  them  all. 
Money  can  buy  company,  and  it  can  buy  retire- 
ment. The  latter  service  I  asked  now  of  the 
moderate  wealth  with  which  my  poor  cousin 
Tom's  death  had  endowed  me.  Everybody  was 
good  enough  to  suppose  that  I  rejoiced  at  Tom's 
death,  whereas  I  was  particularly  sorry  for  it, 
and  was  not  consoled  even  by  the  prospect  of 
the  island.  My  friends  understood  this  wish  for 


2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

an  island  as  little  as  they  appreciated  my  feelings 
about  poor  Tom.  Beatrice  was  most  emphatic 
in  declaring  that  "  a  horrid  little  island  "  had  no 
charms  for  her,  and  that  she  would  never  set  foot 
in  it.  This  declaration  was  rather  annoying,  be- 
cause I  had  imagined  myself  spending  my  honey- 
moon with  Beatrice  on  the  island ;  but  life  is  not 
all  honeymoon,  and  I  decided  to  have  the  island 
none  the  less.  Besides,  I  was  not  to  be  married 
for  a  year.  Mrs.  Kennett  Hipgrave  had  insisted 
on  this  delay  in  order  that  we  might  be  sure  that 
we  knew  our  own  hearts.  And  as  I  may  say, 
without  unfairness,  that  Mrs.  Hipgrave  was  to  a 
considerable  degree  responsible  for  the  engage- 
ment,— she  asserted  the  fact  herself  with  much 
pride, — I  thought  that  she  had  a  right  to  some 
voice  in  the  date  of  the  marriage.  Moreover  the 
postponement  just  gave  me  the  time  to  go  over 
and  settle  affairs  in  the  island. 

For  I  had  bought  it.  It  cost  me  seven  thou- 
sand five  hundred  and  fifty  pounds, — rather  a 
fancy  price,  but  I  could  not  haggle  with  the  old 
Lord — half  to  be  paid  to  the  Lord's  bankers  in 
London,  and  the  second  half  to  him  in  Neopalia 
when  he  delivered  possession  to  me.  The  Turkish 
Government  had  sanctioned  the  sale,  and  I  had 
agreed  to  pay  a  hundred  pounds  yearly  as  tri- 
bute. This  sum  I  was  entitled,  in  my  turn,  to 
levy  on  the  inhabitants. 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.  3 

"  In  fact,  my  dear  Lord  Wheatley,"  said  old 
Mason  to  me  when  I  called  on  him  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  "  the  whole  affair  is  settled.  I  con- 
gratulate you  on  having  got  just  what  was  your 
whim.  You  are  over  a  hundred  miles  from  the 
nearest  land — Rhodes,  you  see."  (He  laid  a  map 
before  me.)  "  You  are  off  the  steamship  tracks  ; 
the  Austrian  Lloyds  to  Alexandria  leave  you  far 
to  the  northeast.  You  are  equally  remote  from 
any  submarine  cable ;  here  on  the  southwest, 
from  Alexandia  to  Candia,  is  the  nearest.  You 
will  have  to  fetch  your  letters." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  of  doing  such  a  thing," 
said  I  indignantly. 

"  Then  you'll  only  get  them  once  in  three 
months.  Neopalia  is  extremely  rugged  and 
picturesque.  It  is  nine  miles  long  and  five  broad  ; 
it  grows  cotton,  wine,  oil,  and  a  little  corn.  The 
people  are  quite  unsophisticated,  but  very  good- 
hearted." 

"And,"  said  I,  "there  are  only  three  hundred 
and  seventy  of  them  all  told.  I  really  think  I 
shall  do  very  well  there." 

"  I've  no  doub<?  you  will.  By  the  way,  treat 
the  old  gentleman  kindly.  He's  terribly  cut  up 
at  having  to  sell.  '  My  dear  island,'  he  writes, 
'  is  second  to  my  dead  son's  honour,  and  to  noth- 
ing else.'  His  son,  you  know,  was  a  bad  lot, — a 
very  bad  lot  indeed." 


4  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  He  left  a  heap  of  unpaid  debts,  didn't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  gambling  debts.  He  spent  his  time 
knocking  about  Paris  and  London  with  his 
cousin  Constantine, — by  no  means  an  improving 
companion,  if  report  speaks  truly.  And  your 
money  is  to  pay  the  debts,  you  know." 

"  Poor  old  chap,"  said  I.  I  sympathised  with 
him  in  the  loss  of  his  island. 

"  Here's  the  house,  you  see,"  said  Mason,  turn- 
ing to  the  map  and  dismissing  the  sorrows  of  the 
old  Lord  of  Neopalia, — "  about  the  middle  of 
the  island,  nearly  a  thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 
I'm  afraid  it's  a  tumble-down  old  place,  and  will 
swallow  a  lot  of  money  without  looking  much 
better  for  the  dose.  To  put  it  into  repair  for 
the  reception  of  the  future  Lady  Wheatley  would 
cost " 

"The  future  Lady  Wheatley  says  she  won't 
go  there  on  any  account,"  I  interrupted. 

"But,  my  very  dear  lord,"  cried  he,  aghast,  "  if 
she  won't " 

"She  won't,  and  there's  an  end  of  it,  Mr. 
Mason.  Well,  good  day.  I'm  to  have  possession 
in  a  month  ?  " 

"  In  a  month  to  the  very  day — on  the  /th  of 
May." 

"  All  right ;  I  shall  be  there  to  take  it." 

Escaping  from  the  legal  quarter,  I  made  my 
way  to  my  sister's  house  in  Cavendish  Square. 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.  5 

She  had  a  party,  and  I  was  bound  to  go  by 
brotherly  duty.  As  luck  would  have  it,  how- 
ever, I  was  rewarded  for  my  virtue  (and  if  that's 
not  luck  in  this  huddle-muddle  world  I  don't 
know  what  is) :  the  Turkish  Ambassador  dropped 
in,  and  presently  James  came  and  took  me  up  to 
him.  My  brother-in-law,  James  Cardew,  is  always 
anxious  that  I  should  know  the  right  people. 
The  Pasha  received  me  with  great  kindness. 

"  You  are  the  purchaser  of  Neopalia,  aren't 
you  ? "  he  asked,  after  a  little  conversation. 
"  The  matter  came  before  me  officially." 

"  I'm  much  obliged,"  said  I,  "  for  your  ready 
consent  to  the  transfer." 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing  to  us.  In  fact  our  tribute, 
such  as  it  is,  will  be  safer.  Well,  I'm  sure  I  hope 
you'll  settle  in  comfortably." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  all  right.  I  know  the  Greeks 
very  well,  you  see — been  there  a  lot,  and,  of 
course,  I  talk  the  tongue,  because  I  spent  two 
years  hunting  antiquities  in  the  Morea  and  some 
of  the  islands." 

The  Pasha  stroked  his  beard,  as  he  observed 
in  a  calm  tone, — 

"The  last  time  a  Stefanopoulos  tried  to  sell 
Neopalia,  the  people  killed  him,  and  turned 
the  purchaser — he  was  a  Frenchman,  a  Baron 
d'Ezonville — adrift  in  an  open  boat,  with  noth- 
ing on  but  his  shirt." 


6  Phroso  :  A  Romance* 

"  Good  heavens  !     Was  that  recently  ?  " 

"  No  ;  two  hundred  years  ago.  But  it's  a  con- 
servative part  of  the  world,  you  know."  And 
his  Excellency  smiled. 

"  They  were  described  to  me  as  good-hearted 
folk,"  said  I ;  "  unsophisticated,  of  course,  but 
good-hearted." 

"  They  think  that  the  island  is  theirs,  you 
see,"  he  explained,  "  and  that  the  Lord  has  no 
business  to  sell  it.  They  may  be  good-hearted, 
Lord  Wheatley,  but  they  are  tenacious  of  their 
rights." 

"But  they  can't  have  any  rights,"  I  expostu- 
lated. 

"  None  at  all,"  he  assented.  "  But  a  man  is 
never  so  tenacious  of  his  rights  as  when  he  hasn't 
any.  However,  autres  temps  autres  m&urs ;  I 
don't  suppose  you'll  have  any  trouble  of  that 
kind.  Certainly  I  hope  not,  my  dear  lord." 

"Surely  your  Government  will  see  to  that?" 
I  suggested. 

His  Excellency  looked  at  me  ;  then,  although 
by  nature  a  grave  man,  he  gave  a  low  humorous 
chuckle,  and  regarded  me  with  visible  amusement. 

"Oh,  of  course,  you  can  rely  on  that,  Lord 
Wheatley,"  said  he. 

"That  is  a  diplomatic  assurance,  your  Excel- 
lency? "  I  ventured  to  suggest,  with  a  smile. 

"  It  is  unofficial,"  said  he,  "  but  as  binding  as 


A  Long1  Thing  Ending1  in  -i>oulos.  7 

if  it  were  official.  Our  Governor  in  that  district 
of  the  empire  is  a  very  active  man — yes,  a  de- 
cidedly active  man." 

The  only  result  of  this  conversation  was  that, 
when  I  was  buying  my  sporting  guns  in  St. 
James's  Street  the  next  day,  I  purchased  a  couple 
of  pairs  of  revolvers  at  the  same  time.  It  is  well 
to  be  on  the  safe  side,  and  although  I  attached 
little  importance  to  the  by-gone  outrage  of  which 
the  Ambassador  spoke,  I  did  not  suppose  that 
the  police  service  would  be  very  efficient.  In 
fact  I  thought  it  prudent  to  be  ready  for  any 
trouble  that  the  old-world  notions  of  the  Neopa- 
lians  might  occasion.  But  in  my  heart  I  meant 
to  be  very  popular  with  them.  For  I  cherished 
the  generous  design  of  paying  the  whole  tribute 
out  of  my  own  pocket,  and  of  disestablishing  in 
Neopalia  what  seems  to  be  the  only  institution 
in  no  danger  of  such  treatment  here — the  tax- 
gatherer.  If  they  understood  that  intention  of 
mine,  they  would  hardly  be  so  short-sighted  as 
to  set  me  adrift  in  my  shirt  like  a  second  Baron 
d'Ezonville,  or  so  unjust  as  to  kill  poor  old 
Stefanopoulos  as  they  had  killed  his  ancestor. 
Besides,  as  I  comforted  myself  by  repeating,  they 
were  a  good-hearted  race ;  unsophisticated,  of 
course,  but  throughly  good-hearted. 

My  cousin,  young  Denny  Swinton,  was  to 
dine  with  me  that  evening  at  the  Optimum. 


8  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

Denny  (a  familiar  form  of  Dennis)  was  the  only 
member  of  the  family  who  sympathised  thor- 
oughly with  me  about  Neopalia.  He  was  wild 
with  interest  in  the  island,  and  I  looked  forward 
to  telling  him  all  I  had  heard  about  it.  I  knew 
he  would  listen,  for  he  was  to  go  with  me  and 
help  me  to  take  possession.  The  boy  had  almost 
wept  on  my  neck  when  I  asked  him  to  come ;  he 
had  just  left  Woolwich,  and  was  not  to  join  his 
battalion  for  six  months  ;  he  was  thus,  as  he  put 
it,  "  at  a  loose  end,"  and  succeeded  in  persuading 
his  parents  that  he  ought  to  learn  modern  Greek. 
General  Swinton  was  rather  cold  about  the  pro- 
ject ;  he  said  that  Denny  had  spent  ten  years  on 
ancient  Greek,  and  knew  nothing  about  it,  and 
probably  would  not  learn  much  of  the  newer 
sort  in  three  months ;  but  his  wife  thought  it 
would  be  a  nice  trip  for  Denny.  Well,  it  turned 
out  to  be  a  very  nice  trip  for  Denny  ;  but  if  Mrs. 

Swinton  had  known however,  if  it  comes  to 

that,  I  might  just  as  well  exclaim,  "  If  I  had 
known  myself !  " 

Denny  had  taken  a  table  next  but  one  to  the 
west  end  of  the  room,  and  was  drumming  his 
fingers  impatiently  on  the  cloth  when  I  entered. 
He  wanted  both  his  dinner  and  the  latest  news 
about  Neopalia ;  so  I  sat  down  and  made  haste 
to  satisfy  him  in  both  respects.  Travelling  with 
equal  steps  through  the  two  matters,  we  had 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.  9 

reached  the  first  entree  and  the  fate  of  the  mur- 
dered Stefanopoulos  (which  Denny,  for  some 
reason,  declared  was  "  a  lark  "),  when  two  people 
came  in  and  sat  down  at  the  table  beyond  ours 
and  next  to  the  wall,  where  two  chairs  had  been 
tilted  up  in  token  of  pre-engagement.  The  man 
— for  the  pair  were  man  and  woman — was  tall 
and  powerfully  built ;  his  complexion  was  dark, 
and  he  had  good,  regular  features ;  he  looked 
also  as  if  he  had  a  bit  of  a  temper  somewhere 
about  him.  I  was  conscious  of  having  seen  him 
before,  and  suddenly  recollected  that  by  a  curi- 
ous chance  I  had  run  up  against  him  twice  in 
St.  James's  Street  that  very  day.  The  lady  was 
handsome  ;  she  had  an  Italian  cast  of  face,  and 
moved  with  much  grace ;  her  manner  was  rather 
elaborate,  and,  when  she  spoke  to  the  waiter,  I 
detected  a  pronounced  foreign  accent.  Taken 
together,  they  were  a  remarkable  couple  and 
presented  a  distinguished  appearance.  I  believe 
I  am  not  a  conceited  man,  but  I  could  not  help 
wondering  whether  their  thoughts  paid  me  a  sim- 
ilar compliment.  For  I  certainly  detected  both 
of  them  casting  more  than  one  curious  glance 
towards  our  table  ;  and  when  the  man  whispered 
once  to  a  waiter,  I  was  sure  that  I  formed  the 
subject  of  his  question;  perhaps  he  also  remem- 
bered our  two  encounters. 

"  I  wonder  if  there's  any  chance  of  a  row  !  "  said 


io  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

Denny  in  a  tone  that  sounded  wistful.     "  Going 
to  take  anybody  with  you,  Charley  ?  " 

"  Only  Watkins  ;  I  must  have  him ;  he  always 
knows  where  everything  is ;  and  I've  told  Hog- 
vardt,  my  old  dragoman,  to  meet  us  in  Rhodes. 
He'll  talk  their  own  language  to  the  beggars,  you 
know." 

"  But  he's  a  German,  isn't  he?  " 

"  He  thinks  so,"  I  answered.  "  He's  not  cer- 
tain, you  know.  Anyhow,  he  chatters  Greek  like 
a  parrot.  He's  a  pretty  good  man  in  a  row,  too. 
But  there  won't  be  a  row,  you  know." 

"  I  suppose  there  won't,"  admitted  Denny  rue- 
fully. 

"For  my  own  part,"  said  I  meekly,  "as  I'm 
going  for  the  sake  of  quiet,  I  hope  there  won't." 

In  the  interest  of  conversation  I  had  forgotten 
our  neighbours ;  but  now,  a  lull  occurring  in 
Denny's  questions  and  surmises,  I  heard  the  lady's 
voice.  She  began  a  sentence — and  began  it  in 
Greek  !  That  was  a  little  unexpected  ;  but  it  was 
more  strange  that  her  companion  cut  her  short, 
saying  very  peremptorily,  "  Don't  talk  Greek  ; 
talk  Italian."  This  he  said  in  Italian,  and  I, 
though  no  great  hand  at  that  language,  under- 
stood so  much.  Now  why  shouldn't  the  lady 
talk  Greek,  if  Greek  were  the  language  that  came 
naturally  to  her  tongue?  It  would  be  as  good  a 
shield  against  eavesdroppers  as  most  languages ; 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.          n 

unless,  indeed,  I,  who  was  known  to  be  an  ama- 
teur of  Greece  and  Greek  things,  were  looked 
upon  as  a  possible  listener.  Recollecting  the 
glances  which  I  had  detected,  recollecting  again 
those  chance  meetings,  I  ventured  on  a  covert 
gaze  at  the  lady.  Her  handsome  face  expressed 
a  mixture  of  anger,  alarm,  and  entreaty.  The 
man  was  speaking  to  her  now  in  low  urgent  tones  ; 
he  raised  his  hand  once,  and  brought  it  down  on 
the  table  as  though  to  emphasise  some  declara- 
tion— perhaps  some  promise — which  he  was  mak- 
ing. She  regarded  him  with  half-angry,  distrust- 
ful eyes.  He  seemed  to  repeat  his  words,  and 
she  flung  at  him  in  a  tone  that  grew  suddenly 
louder,  and  in  words  that  I  could  translate : 

"  Enough!    I'll  see  to  that.    I  shall  come  too." 

Her  heat  stirred  no  answering  fire  in  him.  He 
dropped  his  emphatic  manner,  shrugged  a  tolerant 
"As  you  will,"  with  eloquent  shoulders,  smiled 
at  her,  and,  reaching  across  the  table,  patted  her 
hand.  She  held  it  up  before  his  eyes,  and  with 
the  other  hand  pointed  at  a  ring  on  her  finger. 

"Yes,  yes,  my  dearest,"  said  he,  and  he  was 
about  to  say  more  when,  glancing  round,  he 
caught  my  gaze  retreating  in  hasty  confusion  to 
my  plate.  I  dared  not  look  up  again,  but  I  felt 
his  scowl  on  me.  I  suppose  that  I  deserved 
punishment  for  my  eavesdropping. 

"  And  when  can  we  get  off,  Charley  ?  "  asked 


12  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

Denny  in  his  clear  young  voice.  My  thoughts 
had  wandered  from  him,  and  I  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment as  a  man  does  when  a  question  takes  him 
unawares.  There  was  silence  at  the  next  table 
also.  The  fancy  seemed  absurd,  but  it  occurred 
to  me  that  there  too  my  answer  was  being  waited 
for.  Well,  they  could  know  if  they  liked  ;  it  was 
no  secret. 

"  In  a  fortnight,"  said  I.  "  We'll  travel  easily, 
and  get  there  on  the  /th  of  next  month  ;  that's 
the  day  on  which  I'm  entitled  to  take  over  my 
kingdom.  We  shall  go  to  Rhodes.  Hogvardtwill 
have  got  me  a  little  yacht,  and  then — good-bye 
to  all  this  !  "  And  a  great  longing  for  solitude 
and  a  natural  life  came  over  me  as  I  looked  round 
on  the  gilded  cornices,  the  gilded  mirrors,  the 
gilded  flower-vases,  and  the  highly  gilded  com- 
pany of  the  Optimum. 

I  was  roused  from  my  pleasant  dreams  by  a 
high,  vivacious  voice  which  I  knew  very  well. 
Looking  up,  I  saw  Miss  Hipgrave,  her  mother, 
and  young  Bennett  Hamlyn,  standing  before  me. 
I  dislike  young  Hamlyn,  but  he  was  always  very 
civil  to  me. 

"Why,  how  early  you  two  have  dined  !  "  cried 
Beatrice.  "  You're  at  the  savoury,  aren't  you  ? 
We've  only  just  come." 

"  Are  you  going  to  dine  ? "  I  asked,  rising. 
"  Take  this  table  ;  we're  just  off." 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.  13 

"  Well,  we  may  as  well,  mayn't  we  ?  "  said  my 
finacte.  "Sorry  you're  going,  though.  Oh,  yes, 
we're  going  to  dine  with  Mr.  Bennett  Hamlyn. 
That's  what  you're  for,  isn't  it,  Mr.  Hamlyn  ? 
Why,  he's  not  listening !  " 

He  was  not,  strange  to  say,  listening,  although 
as  a  rule  he  listened  to  Beatrice  with  infinite  at- 
tention and  the  most  deferential  of  smiles.  But 
just  now  he  was  engaged  in  returning  a  bow 
which  our  neighbour  at  the  next  table  had  be- 
stowed on  him.  The  lady  there  had  risen  already 
and  was  making  for  the  door.  The  man  lingered 
and  looked  at  Hamlyn,  seeming  inclined  to  back 
up  his  bow  with  a  few  words  of  greeting.  Ham- 
lyn's  air  was  not,  however,  encouraging,  and  the 
stranger  contented  himself  with  a  nod  and  a 
careless  "  How  are  you  ?  "  and,  with  that,  followed 
his  companion.  Hamlyn  turned  round,  conscious 
that  he  had  neglected  Beatrice's  remark  and  full 
of  penitence  for  his  momentary  neglect. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  said  he  with  an  apolo- 
getic smile. 

"  Oh,"  answered  she,  "  I  was  only  saying  that 
men  like  you  were  invented  to  give  dinners; 
you're  a  sort  of  automatic  feeding-machine.  You 
ought  to  stand  open  all  day.  Really  I  often  miss 
you  at  lunch  time." 

"  My  dear  Beatrice  !  "  said  Mrs.  Kennett  Hip- 
grave,  with  that  peculiar  lift  of  her  brows  which 


14  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

meant,  "  How  naughty  the  dear  child  is — but  oh, 
how  clever ! " 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  Hamlyn  meekly.  "  I'm 
awfully  happy  to  give  you  a  dinner  anyhow,  Miss 
Beatrice." 

Now  I  had  nothing  to  say  on  this  subject,  but 
I  thought  I  would  just  make  this  remark, — 

"Miss  Hipgrave,"  said  I,  "is  very  fond  of  a 
dinner." 

Beatrice  laughed.  She  understood  my  little 
correction. 

"  He  doesn't  know  any  better,  do  you  ?  "  said 
she  pleasantly  to  Hamlyn.  "  We  shall  civilise 
him  in  time,  though  ;  then  I  believe  he'll  be  nicer 
than  you,  Charley,  I  really  do.  You're " 

"  I  shall  be  uncivilised  by  then,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  that  wretched  island  !  "  cried  Beatrice. 
"You're  really  going?" 

"  Most  undoubtedly.  By  the  way,  Hamlyn, 
who's  your  friend?" 

Surely  this  was  an  innocent  enough  question, 
but  little  Hamlyn  went  red  from  the  edge  of  his 
clipped  whisker  on  the  right  to  the  edge  of  his 
mathematically  equal  whisker  on  the  left. 

"Friend!"  said  he  in  an  angry  tone;  "he's 
not  a  friend  of  mine.  I  only  met  him  on  the 
Riviera." 

"That,"  I  admitted,  "does  not,  happily,  in  it- 
self constitute  a  friendship." 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.         15 

"And  he  won  a  hundred  louis  of  me  in  the 
train  between  Cannes  and  Monte  Carlo." 

"  Not  bad  going,  that,"  observed  Denny  in  an 
approving  tone. 

"Is  he  then  un  grec  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Hipgrave, 
who  loves  a  scrap  of  French. 

"  In  both  senses,  I  believe,"  answered  Hamlyn 
viciously. 

"And  what's  his  name?"  said  I. 

"  Really  I  don't  recollect,"  said  Hamlyn 
rather  petulantly. 

"  It  doesn't  matter,"  observed  Beatrice,  at- 
tacking her  oysters,  which  had  now  made  their 
appearance. 

"  My  dear  Beatrice,"  I  remonstrated,  "  you're 
the  most  charming  creature  in  the  world,  but  not 
the  only  one.  You  mean  that  it  doesn't  matter 
to  you." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  tiresome.  It  doesn't  matter  to 
you  either,  you  know.  Do  go  away  and  leave 
me  to  dine  in  peace." 

"  Half  a  minute  !  "  said  Hamlyn.  "  I  thought 
I'd  got  it  just  now,  but  it's  gone  again.  Look 
here,  though,  I  believe  it's  one  of  those  long 
things  that  end  in  poulos" 

"  Oh,  it  ends  in  poulos,  does  it  ?  "  said  I  in  a 
meditative  tone. 

"  My  dear  Charley,"  said  Beatrice,  "  I  shall  end 
in  Bedlam  if  you're  so  very  tedious.  What  in 


1 6  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

the  world  I  shall  do  when  I'm  married,  I  don't 
know." 

"  My  dearest ! "  said  Mrs.  Hipgrave,  and  a 
stage  direction  might  add,  Business  with  brows 
as  before. 

"  Poulos"  I  repeated  thoughtfully. 

"  Could  it  be  Constantinopoulos?  "  asked  Ham- 
lyn,  with  a  nervous  deference  to  my  Hellenic 
learning. 

"  It  might  conceivably,"  I  hazarded,  "be  Con- 
stantine  Stefanopoulos." 

"  Then,"  said  Hamlyn,  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
it  was.  Anyhow,  the  less  you  see  of  him,  Wheat- 
ley,  the  better.  Take  my  word  for  that." 

"  But,"  I  objected — and  I  must  admit  that  I 
have  a  habit  of  assuming  that  everybody  follows 
my  train  of  thought — "  it's  such  a  small  place, 
that,  if  he  goes,  I  shall  be  almost  bound  to  meet 
him." 

"  What's  such  a  small  place  ?  "  cried  Beatrice 
with  emphasised  despair. 

"  Why,  Neopalia,  of  course,"  said  I. 

"  Why  should  anybody,  except  you,  be  so  in- 
sane as  to  go  there  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  If  he's  the  man  I  think,  he  comes  from  there," 
I  explained,  as  I  rose  for  the  last  time ;  for  I  had 
been  getting  up  to  go,  and  sitting  down  again, 
several  times. 

"  Then  he'll  think  twice  before  he  goes  back," 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.          \j 

pronounced  Beatrice  decisively  ;  she  was  irrecon- 
cilable about  my  poor  island. 

Denny  and  I  walked  off  together;  as  we  went 
he  observed, — 

"  I  suppose  that  chap's  got  no  end  of  money  ?" 

«  Stefan ?  "  I  began. 

"  No,  no.  Hang  it,  you're  as  bad  as  Miss  Hip- 
grave  says.  I  mean  Bennett  Hamlyn." 

"  Oh,  yes,  absolutely  no  end  to  it,  I  believe." 

Denny  looked  sagacious. 

"  He's  very  free  with  his  dinners,"  he  observed. 

"  Don't  let's  worry  about  it,"  I  suggested,  tak- 
ing his  arm.  I  was  not  worried  about  it  myself. 
Indeed  for  the  moment  my  island  monopolised 
my  mind,  and  my  attachment  to  Beatrice  was 
not  of  such  a  romantic  character  as  to  make  me 
ready  to  be  jealous  on  slight  grounds.  Mrs. 
Hipgrave  said  the  engagement  was  based  on 
"  general  suitability."  Now  it  is  difficult  to  be 
very  passionate  over  that. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  don't,"  said  Denny  rea- 
sonably. 

"  That's  right.  It's  only  a  little  way  that  Bea- 
trice  "  I  stopped  abruptly.  We  were  now 

on  the  steps  outside  the  restaurant,  and  I  had  just 
perceived  a  scrap  of  paper  lying  on  the  mosaic 
pavement.  I  stooped  down  and  picked  it  up. 
It  proved  to  be  a  fragment  torn  from  the  menu 
card.  I  turned  it  over. 


1 8  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Hullo,  what's  this  ?  "  said  I,  searching  for  my 
eyeglass,  which  was  (as  usual)  somewhere  in  the 
small  of  my  back. 

Denny  gave  me  the  glass,  and  I  read  what  was 
written  on  the  back.  It  was  written  in  Greek, 
and  it  ran  thus : 

"  By  way  of  Rhodes — small  yacht  there — arrive 
seventh." 

I  turned  the  piece  of  paper  over  in  my  hand. 
I  drew  a  conclusion  or  two  :  one  was  that  my  tall 
neighbour  was  named  Stefanopoulos ;  another, 
that  he  had  made  good  use  of  his  ears — better 
than  I  had  made  of  mine  ;  for  a  third,  I  guessed 
that  he  would  go  to  Neopalia ;  for  a  fourth,  I 
fancied  that  Neopalia  was  the  place  to  which  the 
lady  had  declared  she  would  accompany  him. 
Then  I  fell  to  wondering  why  all  these  things 
should  be  so ;  why  he  wished  to  remember  the 
route  of  my  journey,  the  date  of  my  arrival,  and 
the  fact  that  I  meant  to  hire  a  yacht.  Finally, 
those  two  chance  encounters,  taken  with  the  rest, 
assumed  a  more  interesting  complexion. 

"  When  you've  done  with  that  bit  of  paper,"  ob- 
served Denny,  in  a  tone  expressive  of  exaggerated 
patience,  "we  might  as  well  go  on,  old  fellow." 

"  All  right.  I've  done  with  it — for  the  present," 
said  I.  But  I  took  the  liberty  of  slipping  Mr. 
Constantine  Stefanopoulos'  memorandum  into 
my  pocket. 


A  Long  Thing  Ending  in  -poulos.          19 

The  general  result  of  the  evening  was  to  in- 
crease most  distinctly  my  interest  in  Neopalia. 
I  went  to  bed  still  thinking  of  my  purchase,  and 
I  recollect  that  the  last  thing  which  came  into 
my  head  before  I  went  to  sleep  was,  "  What  did 
she  mean  by  pointing  to  the  ring?" 

Well,  I  found  an  answer  to  that  later  on. 


CHAPTER  E. 
A  Conservative  Country. 

UNTIL  the  moment  of  our  parting  came,  I  had 
no  idea  that  Beatrice  Hipgrave  felt  my  going  at 
all.  She  was  not  in  the  habit  of  displaying 
emotion,  and  I  was  much  surprised  at  the  reluc- 
tance with  which  she  bade  me  good-bye.  So  far, 
however,  was  she  from  reproaching  me  that  she 
took  all  the  blame  on  herself,  saying  that  if  she 
had  been  kinder  and  nicer  to  me  I  should  never 
have  thought  about  my  island.  In  this  she  was 
quite  wrong;  but  when  I  told  her  so,  and  assured 
her  that  I  had  no  fault  to  find  with  her  behav- 
iour I  was  met  with  an  almost  passionate  assertion 
of  her  unworthiness  and  an  entreaty  t'hat  I  should 
not  spend  on  her  a  love  that  she  did  not  deserve. 
Her  abasement  and  penitence  compelled  me  to 
show — and  indeed  to  feel — a  good  deal  of  tender- 
ness for  her.  She  was  pathetic  and  pretty  in  her 
unusual  earnestness  and  unexplained  distress.  I 
went  the  length  of  offering  to  put  off  my  expedi- 
tion until  after  our  wedding ;  and  although  she 
besought  me  to  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  I  believe 


A  Conservative  Country.  21 

that  we  might,  in  the  end,  have  arranged  matters 
on  this  footing  had  we  been  left  to  ourselves. 
But  Mrs.  Hipgrave  saw  fit  to  intrude  on  our  in- 
terview at  this  point,  and  she  at  once  pooh-poohed 
the  notion,  declaring  that  I  should  be  better  out 
of  the  way  for  a  few  months.  Beatrice  did  not 
resist  her  mother's  conclusion  ;  but  when  we  were 
alone  again  she  became  very  agitated,  begging 
me  always  to  think  well  of  her,  and  asking  if  I 
were  really  attached  to  her.  I  did  not  under- 
stand this  mood,  which  was  very  unlike  her  ordi- 
nary manner  ;  but  I  responded  with  a  hearty  and 
warm  avowal  of  confidence  in  her ;  and  I  met  her 
questions  as  to  my  own  feelings  by  pledging  my 
word  very  solemnly  that  absence  should,  so  far 
as  I  was  concerned,  make  no  difference,  and  that 
she  might  rely  implicitly  on  my  faithful  affection. 
This  assurance  seemed  to  give  her  very  little 
comfort,  although  I  repeated  it  more  than  once  ; 
and  when  I  left  her  I  was  in  a  state  of  some  per- 
plexity, for  I  could  not  follow  the  bent  of  her 
thoughts  nor  appreciate  the  feelings  that  moved 
her.  I  was,  however,  considerably  touched,  and 
upbraided  myself  for  not  having  hitherto  done 
justice  to  the  depth  and  sincerity  of  nature 
which  underlay  her  external  frivolity.  I  ex- 
pressed this  self-condemnation  to  Denny  Swin- 
ton,  but  he  met  it  very  coldly,  and  would  not  be 
drawn  into  any  discussion  of  the  subject.  Denny 

. 


22  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

was  not  wont  to  conceal  his  opinions,  and  had 
never  pretended  to  be  enthusiastic  about  my  en- 
gagement. This  attitude  of  his  had  not  troubled 
me  before,  but  I  was  annoyed  at  it  now,  and  I 
retaliated  by  asseverating  my  affection  for  Bea- 
trice in  terms  of  even  exaggerated  emphasis,  and 
hers  for  me  with  no  less  vehemence. 

These  troubles  and  perplexities  vanished  be- 
fore the  zest  and  interest  which  our  preparations 
and  start  excited.  Denny  and  I  were  like  a  pair 
of  schoolboys  off  for  a  holiday,  and  spent  hours 
in  forecasting  what  we  should  do  and  how  we 
should  fare  on  the  island.  These  speculations 
were  extremely  amusing,  but  in  the  long  run 
they  were  proved  to  be,  one  and  all,  wide  of  the 
mark.  Had  I  known  Neopalia  then  as  well  as  I 
came  to  know  it  afterwards,  I  should  have  re- 
cognised the  futility  of  attempting  to  prophesy 
what  would  or  would  not  happen  there.  As  it 
was,  we  span  our  cobwebs  merrily  all  the  way  to 
Rhodes,  where  we  arrived  without  event  and 
without  accident.  Here  we  picked  up  Hogvardt, 
and  embarked  in  the  smart  little  steam  yacht 
which  he  had  procured  for  me.  A  day  or  two 
was  spent  in  arranging  our  stores  and  buying 
what  more  we  wanted,  for  we  could  not  expect 
to  be  able  to  purchase  any  luxuries  in  Neopalia. 
I  was  rather  surprised  to  find  no  letter  for  me 
from  the  old  Lord,  but  I  had  no  thought  of 


A  Conservative  Country*  23 

waiting  for  a  formal  invitation,  and  pressed  on 
the  hour  of  departure  as  much  as  I  could.  Here, 
also,  I  saw  the  first  of  my  new  subjects,  Hog- 
vardt  having  engaged  a  couple  of  men  who  had 
come  to  him  saying  that  they  were  from  Neo- 
palia  and  were  anxious  to  work  their  passage 
back.  I  was  delighted  to  have  them,  and  fell  at 
once  to  studying  them  with  immense  attention. 
They  were  fine,  tall,  capable-looking  fellows,  and 
they  two,  with  ourselves,  made  a  crew  more  than 
large  enough  for  our  little  boat ;  for  both  Denny 
and  I  could  make  ourselves  useful  on  board,  and 
Hogvardt  could  do  something  of  everything  on 
land  or  water,  while  Watkins  acted  as  cook  and 
steward.  The  Neopalians  were,  as  they  stated 
in  answer  to  my  questions,  brothers  ;  their  names 
were  Spiro  and  Demetri,  and  they  informed  us 
that  their  family  had  served  the  Lords  of  Neo- 
palia  for  many  generations.  Hearing  this,  I  was 
less  inclined  to  resent  the  undeniable  reserve  and 
even  surliness  with  which  they  met  my  advances. 
I  made  allowance  for  their  hereditary  attachment 
to  the  outgoing  family,  and  their  natural  want  of 
cordiality  towards  the  intruder  did  not  prevent 
me  from  plying  them  with  many  questions  con- 
cerning my  predecessors  on  the  throne  of  the 
island.  My  perseverance  was  ill-rewarded,  but  I 
succeeded  in  learning  that  the  only  member  of 
the  family  on  the  island,  besides  the  old  Lord, 


24  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

was  a  girl  whom  they  called  "  The  Lady  Eu- 
phrosyne,"  the  daughter  of  the  Lord's  brother 
who  was  dead.  Next  I  asked  after  my  friend 
of  the  Optimum  Restaurant, — Constantine.  He 
was  this  lady's  cousin  once  or  twice  removed, — 
I  did  not  make  out  the  exact  degree  of  kinship, 
— but  Demetri  hastened  to  inform  me  that  he 
came  very  seldom  to  the  island,  and  had  not 
been  there  for  two  years. 

"  And  he  is  not  expected  there  now  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  was  not  when  we  left,  my  lord,"  answered 
Demetri,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  threw 
an  inquiring  glance  at  his  brother,  who  added 
hastily, — 

"  But  what  should  we  poor  men  know  of  the 
Lord  Constantine's  doings?  " 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  now?"  I  asked. 

"  No,  my  lord,"  they  answered  together,  and 
with  great  emphasis. 

I  cannot  deny  that  something  struck  me  as 
peculiar  in  their  manner,  but  when  I  mentioned 
my  impression  to  Denny  he  scoffed  at  me. 

"  You've  been  reading  old  Byron  again,"  he 
said  scornfully.  "  Do  you  think  they're  cor- 
sairs? " 

Well,  a  man  is  not  a  fool  simply  because  he 
reads  Byron,  and  I  maintained  my  opinion  that 
the  brothers  were  embarrassed  at  my  questions. 
Moreover  I  caught  Spiro,  the  more  truculent- 


A  Conservative  Country.  25 

looking  of  the  pair,  scowling  at  me  more  than 
once  when  he  did  not  know  I  had  my  eye  on 
him. 

These  little  mysteries,  however,  did  nothing 
but  add  sauce  to  my  delight  as  we  sprang  over 
the  blue  waters;  and  my  joy  was  complete  when, 
on  the  morning  of  the  day  I  had  appointed,  the 
seventh  of  May,  Denny  cried  "  Land ! "  and, 
looking  over  the  starboard  bow,  I  saw  the  cloud 
on  the  sea  that  was  Neopalia.  Day  came  bright 
and  glorious,  and,  as  we  drew  nearer  to  our  en- 
chanted isle,  we  distinguished  its  features  and 
conformation.  The  coast  was  rocky,  save  where 
a  small  harbour  opened  to  the  sea,  and  the  rocks 
ran  up  from  the  coast,  rising  higher  and  higher, 
till  they  culminated  in  a  quite  respectable  peak 
in  the  centre.  The  telescope  showed  cultivated 
ground  and  vineyards,  mingled  with  woods,  on 
the  slopes  of  the  mountain  ;  and  about  half-way 
up,  sheltered  on  three  sides,  backed  by  thick 
\voods,  and  commanding  a  splendid  sea  view, 
stood  an  old,  grey,  battlemented  house. 

"  There's  my  house,"  I  cried,  in  natural  exulta- 
tion, pointing  with  my  finger.  It  was  a  moment 
in  my  life,  a  moment  to  mark. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Denny,  throwing  up  his  hat 
in  sympathy. 

Demetri  was  standing  near,  and  met  this 
ebullition  with  a  grim  smile. 


26  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  hope  my  lord  will  find  the  house  comfort- 
able," said  he. 

"  We  shall  soon  make  it  comfortable,"  said  Hog- 
vardt ;  "  I  daresay  it's  half  a  ruin  now." 

"  It's  good  enough  now  for  a  Stefanopoulos," 
said  the  fellow  with  a  surly  frown.  The  infer- 
ence we  were  meant  to  draw  was  plain  even  to  the 
point  of  incivility. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  entered  the 
harbour  of  Neopalia,  and  brought  up  alongside  a 
rather  crazy  wooden  jetty  which  ran  some  fifty 
feet  out  from  the  shore.  Our  arrival  appeared  to 
create  great  excitement.  Men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren came  running  down  the  narrow  steep  street 
which  climbed  up  the  hill  from  the  harbour. 
We  heard  shrill  cries,  and  a  hundred  fingers  were 
pointed  at  us.  We  landed ;  nobody  came  for- 
ward to  greet  us.  I  looked  round,  but  saw  no 
one  who  could  be  the  old  Lord  ;  but  I  perceived  a 
stout  man  who  wore  an  air  of  importance,  and, 
walking  up  to  him,  I  asked  him  very  politely  if 
he  would  be  so  good  as  to  direct  me  to  the  inn ; 
for  I  had  discovered  from  Demetri  that  there  was 
a  modest  house  where  we  could  lodge  that  night, 
and  I  was  too  much  in  love  with  my  island  to 
think  of  sleeping  on  board  the  yacht.  The 
stout  man  looked  at  Denny  and  me ;  then  he 
looked  at  Demetri  and  Spiro,  who  stood  near 
us,  smiling  their  usual  grim  smile.  At  last  he 


A  Conservative  Country.  27 

answered  my  question  by  another,  a  rather  abrupt 
one, — 

"What  do  you  want,  sir?"  and  he  lifted  his 
tasselled  cap  a  few  inches  and  replaced  it  on  his 
head. 

"  I  want  to  know  the  way  to  the  inn,"  I  an- 
swered. 

"You  have  come  to  visit  Neopalia?"  he  asked. 

A  number  of  people  had  gathered  round  us 
now,  and  all  fixed  their  eyes  on  my  face. 

"  Oh,"  said  I  carelessly,  "  I'm  the  purchaser  of 
the  island,  you  know.  I  have  come  to  take  pos- 
session." 

Nobody  spoke.  Perfect  silence  reigned  for 
half  a  minute. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  get  on  well  together,"  I  said 
with  my  pleasantest  smile. 

Still  no  answer  came.  The  people  round  still 
stared.  But  presently  the  stout  man,  altogether 
ignoring  my  friendly  advances,  said  curtly, — 

"  I  keep  the  inn.  Come.  I  will  take  you  to 
it." 

He  turned  and  led  the  way  up  the  street.  We 
followed,  the  people  making  a  lane  for  us  and 
still  regarding  us  with  stony  stares.  Denny  gave 
expression  to  my  feelings  as  well  as  his  own, — 

"  It  can  hardly  be  described  as  an  ovation,"  he 
observed. 

"  Surly  brutes  !  "  muttered  Hogvardt. 


28  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"It  is  not  the  way  to  receive  his  lordship," 
agreed  Watkins,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger. 
Watkins  had  very  high  ideas  of  the  deference  due 
to  his  lordship. 

The  fat  innkeeper  walked  ahead  ;  I  quickened 
my  pace  and  overtook  him. 

"The  people  don't  seem  very  pleased  to  see 
me,"  I  remarked. 

He  shook  his  head,  but  made  no  answer.  Then 
he  stopped  before  a  substantial  house.  We  fol- 
lowed him  in,  and  he  led  us  upstairs  to  a  large 
room.  It  overlooked  the  street,  but,  somewhat 
to  my  surprise,  the  windows  were  heavily  barred. 
The  door  also  was  massive  and  had  large  bolts 
inside  and  outside. 

"  You  take  good  care  of  your  houses,  my 
friend,"  said  Denny  with  a  laugh. 

"We  like  to  keep  what  we  have,  in  Neopalia," 
said  he. 

I  asked  him  if  he  would  provide  us  with  a 
meal,  and,  assenting  gruffly,  he  left  us  alone. 
The  food  was  some  time  in  coming,  and  we  stood 
at  the  window,  peering  through  our  prison  bars. 
Our  high  spirits  were  dashed  by  the  unfriendly 
reception ;  my  island  should  have  been  more 
gracious  ;  it  was  so  beautiful. 

"  However,  it's  a  better  welcome  than  we  should 
have  got  two  hundred  years  ago,"  I  said  with  a 
laugh,  trying  to  make  the  best  of  the  matter. 


A  Conservative  Country.  29 

Dinner,  which  the  landlord  himself  brought  in, 
cheered  us  again,  and  we  lingered  over  it  till 
dusk  began  to  fall,  discussing  whether  I  ought  to 
visit  the  Lord,  or  whether,  seeing  that  he  had 
not  come  to  receive  me,  my  dignity  did  not 
demand  that  I  should  await  his  visit ;  and  it  was 
on  this  latter  course  that  we  finally  decided. 

"  But  he'll  hardly  come  to-night,"  said  Denny, 
jumping  up.  "  I  wonder  if  there  are  any  decent 
beds  here ! " 

Hogvardt  and  Watkins  had,  by  my  directions, 
sat  down  with  us ;  the  former  was  now  smoking 
his  pipe  at  the  window,  while  Watkins  was  busy 
overhauling  our  luggage.  We  had  brought  light 
bags,  the  rods,  guns,  and  other  smaller  articles. 
The  rest  was  in  the  yacht.  Hearing  beds  men- 
tioned, Watkins  shook  his  head  in  dismal  presage, 
saying,— 

"  We  had  better  sleep  on  board,  my  lord." 

"  Not  I !  What,  leave  the  island  now  we've 
got  here?  No,  Watkins  !" 

"Very  good,  my  lord,"  said  Watkins  impas- 
sively. 

A  sudden  call  came  from  Hogvardt,  and  I 
joined  him  at  the  window. 

The  scene  outside  was  indeed  remarkable.  In 
the  narrow  paved  street,  gloomy  now  in  the  fail- 
ing light,  there  must  have  been  fifty  or  sixty 
men  standing  in  a  circle,  surrounded  by  an  outer 


30  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

fringe  of  women  and  children  ;  and  in  the  centre 
stood  our  landlord,  his  burly  figure  swaying  to 
and  fro  as  he  poured  out  a  low-voiced  but  vehe- 
ment harangue.  Sometimes  he  pointed  towards 
us,  oftener  along  the  ascending  road  that  led  to 
the  interior.  I  could  not  hear  a  word  he  said, 
but  presently  all  his  auditors  raised  their  hands 
towards  heaven.  I  saw  that  some  of  the  hands 
held  guns,  some  clubs,  some  knives  ;  and  all  the 
men  cried  with  furious  energy,  "  Nat,  Nat.  Yes, 
Yes !  "  Then  the  whole  body — and  the  greater 
part  of  the  grown  men  on  the  island  must  have 
been  present — started  off  in  compact  array  up  the 
road,  the  innkeeper  at  their  head.  By  his  side 
walked  another  man  whom  I  had  not  noticed 
before ;  he  wore  an  ordinary  suit  of  tweed,  but 
carried  himself  with  an  assumption  of  much 
dignity ;  his  face  I  could  not  see. 

"  Well,  what's  the  meaning  of  that  ? "  I  ex- 
claimed, looking  down  on  the  street,  empty  again 
save  for  groups  of  white-clothed  women,  who 
talked  eagerly  to  one  another,  gesticulating  and 
pointing  now  towards  our  inn,  now  towards  where 
the  men  had  gone. 

"  Perhaps  it's  their  Parliament,"  suggested 
Denny  ;  "  or  perhaps  they've  repented  of  their 
rudeness  and  are  going  to  erect  a  triumphal 
arch." 

These   conjectures,   being   obviously   ironical, 


A  Conservative  Country.  31 

did  not  assist  the  matter,  although  they  amused 
their  author. 

"Anyhow,"  said  I,  "  I  should  like  to  investi- 
gate the  thing.  Suppose  we  go  for  a  stroll?  " 

The  proposal  was  accepted  at  once.  We  put 
on  our  hats,  took  sticks,  and  prepared  to  go. 
Then  I  glanced  at  the  luggage. 

"  Since  I  was  so  foolish  as  to  waste  my  money 

on  revolvers ?"  said  I,  with  an  inquiring 

glance  at  Hogvardt. 

"  The  evening  air  will  not  hurt  them,"  said  he  ; 
and  we  each  stowed  a  revolver  in  our  pockets. 
We  felt,  I  think,  rather  ashamed  of  our  timidity, 
but  the  Neopalians  certainly  looked  rough  cus- 
tomers. Leading  the  way  to  the  door  I  turned 
the  handle  ;  the  door  did  not  open.  I  pulled 
hard  at  it.  Then  I  looked  at  my  companions. 

"  Queer,"  said  Denny,  and  he  began  to  whistle. 

Hogvardt  got  the  little  lantern,  which  he 
always  had  handy,  and  carefully  inspected  the 
door. 

"Locked,"  he  announced,  "and  bolted  top 
and  bottom.  A  solid  door  too !  "  and  he  struck 
it  with  his  fist.  Then  he  crossed  to  the  window 
and  looked  at  the  bars  ;  and  finally  he  said  to 
me :  "  I  don't  think  we  can  have  our  walk,  my 
lord." 

Well,  I  burst  out  laughing.  The  thing  was 
too  absurd.  Under  cover  of  our  animated  talk 


32  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

the  landlord  must  have  bolted  us  in.  The  bars 
made  the  window  no  use.  A  skilled  burglar 
might  have  beaten  those  bolts,  and  a  battering- 
ram  would,  no  doubt,  have  smashed  the  door; 
we  had  neither  burglar  nor  ram. 

"  We're  caught,  my  boy,"  said  Denny,  "  nicely 
caught !  But  what's  the  game?  " 

I  had  asked  myself  that  question  already,  but 
had  found  no  answer.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was 
wondering  whether  Neopalia  was  going  to  turn 
out  as  conservative  a  country  as  the  Turkish 
Ambassador  had  hinted.  It  was  Watkins  who 
suggested  an  answer. 

"  I  imagine,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "  that  the 
natives  "  (Watkins  always  called  the  Neopalians 
"natives")  "have  gone  to  speak  to  the  gentle- 
man who  sold  the  island  to  your  lordship." 

"  Gad,"  said  Denny,  "  I  hope  it'll  be  a  pleasant 
interview  ! " 

Hogvardt's  broad,  good-humoured  face  had 
assumed  an  anxious  look.  He  knew  something 
about  the  people  of  these  islands  ;  so  did  I. 

"  Trouble,  is  it  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  he  answered,  and  then  we 
turned  to  the  window  again,  except  Denny,  who 
wasted  some  energy  and  made  a  useless  din  by 
battering  at  the  door  till  we  beseeched  him  to 
let  it  alone. 

There  in  the  room  we  sat  for  nearly  two  hours. 


A  Conservative  Gauntry,  33 

Darkness  fell  ;  the  women  had  ceased  their  gos- 
siping, but  still  stood  about  the  street  and  in  the 
doorways  of  their  houses.  It  was  nine  o'clock 
before  matters  showed  any  progress.  Then 
came  shouts  from  the  road  above  us,  the  flash  of 
torches,  the  tread  of  men's  feet  in  a  quick  tri- 
umphant march.  Next  the  stalwart  figures  of 
the  picturesque  fellows,  with  their  white  kilts 
gleaming  through  the  darkness,  came  again  into 
sight,  seeming  wilder  and  more  imposing  in  the 
alternating  glare  and  gloom  of  the  torches  and 
the  deepening  night.  The  man  in  tweeds  was  no 
longer  visible.  Our  innkeeper  was  alone  in  front. 
And  all,  as  they  marched,  sang  loudly  a  rude, 
barbarous  sort  of  chant,  repeating  it  again  and 
again ;  while  the  women  and  children,  crowding 
out  to  meet  the  men,  caught  up  the  refrain  in 
shrill  voices,  till  the  whole  air  seemed  full  of  it  ; 
so  martial  and  inspiring  was  the  rude  tune  that 
our  feet  began  to  beat  in  time  with  it,  and  I  felt 
the  blood  quicken  in  my  veins.  I  have  tried  to 
put  the  words  of  it  into  English,  in  a  shape  as 
rough,  I  fear,  as  the  rough  original.  Here  it  is  : 

"  Ours  is  the  land  ! 
Death  to  the  hand 
That  filches  the  land  ! 
Dead  is  that  hand, 
Ours  is  the  land  ! 


34  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Forever  we  hold  it, 
Dead's  he  that  sold  it ! 
Ours  is  the  land, 
Dead  is  the  hand  !  " 

Again  and  again  they  hurled  forth  the  defiant 
words,  until  at  last  they  stopped  opposite  the  inn 
with  one  final,  long-drawn  shout  of  savage  tri- 
umph. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  go,"  said  Denny,  drawing  a 
long  breath.  "  What  are  the  beggars  up  to  ?  " 

"  What  have  they  been  up  to  ?  "  I  asked  ;  for 
I  could  not  doubt  that  the  song  we  had  heard 
had  been  chanted  over  a  dead  Stefanopoulos  two 
hundred  years  before.  At  this  age  of  the  world 
the  idea  seemed  absurd,  preposterous,  horrible. 
But  there  was  no  law  nearer  than  Rhodes,  and 
there  only  Turk's  law.  The  sole  law  here  was 
the  law  of  the  Stefanopouloi,  and  if  that  law  lost 
its  force  by  the  crime  of  the  hand  which  should 
wield  it,  why,  strange  things  might  happen  even 
to-day  in  Neopalia.  And  we  were  caught  in  the 
inn  like  rats  in  a  trap. 

"  I  don't  see,"  remarked  old  Hogvardt,  laying 
a  hand  on  my  shoulder,  "  any  harm  in  loading 
our  revolvers,  my  lord." 

I  did  not  see  any  harm  in  it  either,  and  we  all 
followed  Hogvardt's  advice,  and  also  filled  our 
pockets  with  cartridges.  I  was  determined — I 
think  we  were  all  determined — not  to  be  bullied 


A  Conservative  Country.  35 

by  these  islanders  and  their  skull-and-crossbones 
ditty. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  ;  then  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  door,  while  the  bolts  shot  back. 

"  I  shall  go  out,"  said  I,  springing  to  my  feet. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  face  of  a  lad  ap- 
peared. 

"  Vlacho  the  innkeeper  bids  you  descend," 
said  he  ;  and  then,  catching  sight,  perhaps,  of 
our  revolvers,  he  turned  and  ran  downstairs 
again  at  his  best  speed.  Following  him  we  came 
to  the  door  of  the  inn.  It  was  ringed  round  with 
men,  and  directly  opposite  to  us  stood  Vlacho. 
When  he  saw  me  he  commanded  silence  with  a 
gesture  of  his  hand,  and  addressed  me  in  the 
following  surprising  style, — 

"  The  Lady  Euphrosyne,  of  her  grace,  bids 
you  depart  in  peace.  Go  then,  to  your  boat  and 
depart,  thanking  God  for  His  mercy." 

"  Wait  a  bit,  my  man,"  said  I ;  "  where  is  the 
Lord  of  the  Island  ?  " 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  he  died  a  week  ago  ?  " 
asked  Vlacho,  with  apparent  surprise. 

"  Died  !  "  we  exclaimed,  one  and  all. 

"Yes,  sir.  The  Lady  Euphrosyne,  Lady  of 
Neopalia,  bids  you  go." 

"What  did  he  die  of?" 

"  Of  a  fever,"  said  Vlacho  gravely  ;  and  several 
of  the  men  round  him  nodded  their  heads,  and 


36  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

murmured  in  no  less  grave  assent,  "Yes,  of  a 
fever." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  it,"  said  I.  "  But  as  he 
sold  the  island  to  me  before  he  died,  I  don't  see 
what  the  Lady,  with  all  respect  to  her,  has  got 
to  do  with  it.  Nor  do  I  know  what  this  rabble 
is  doing  about  the  door.  Bid  them  disperse." 

This  attempt  at  hauteur  was  most  decidedly 
thrown  away,  Vlacho  seemed  not  to  hear  what 
1  said.  He  pointed  with  his  finger  towards  the 
harbour. 

"  There  lies  your  boat.  Demetri  and  Spiro 
cannot  go  with  you,  but  you  will  be  able  to  man- 
age her  yourselves.  Listen  now  !  Till  six  in  the 
morning  you  are  free  to  go.  If  you  are  found  in 
Neopalia  one  minute  after,  you  will  never  go. 
Think  and  be  wise."  And  he  and  all  the  rest,  as 
though  one  spring  moved  the  whole  body, 
wheeled  round  and  marched  off  up  the  hill  again, 
breaking  out  into  the  old  chant  when  they  had 
gone  about  a  hundred  yards.  We  were  left  alone 
in  the  doorway  of  the  inn,  looking,  I  must  admit, 
rather  blank. 

Upstairs  again  we  went,  and  I  sat  down  by  the 
window  and  gazed  out  on  the  night.  It  was  very 
dark,  and  seemed  darker  now  that  the  gleaming 
torches  were  gone.  Not  a  soul  was  to  be  seen. 
The  islanders,  having  put  matters  on  a  satisfac- 
tory footing,  were  gone  to  bed.  I  sat  thinking. 


A  Conservative  Country.  37 

Presently  Denny  came  to  me,  and  put  his  hand 
on  my  shoulder. 

"  Going  to  cave  in,  Charley  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  My  dear  Denny,"  said  I,  "  I  wish  you  were  at 
home  with  your  mother." 

He  smiled  and  repeated,  "  Going  to  cave  in, 
old  chap?" 

"  No,  by  Jove,  I'm  not  ! "  cried  I,  leaping  up. 
"They've  had  my  money,  and  I'm  going  to  have 
my  island." 

"  Take  the  yacht,  my  lord,"  counselled  Hog- 
vardt,  "  and  come  back  with  enough  force  from 
Rhodes." 

Well,  here  was  sense  ;  my  impulse  was  non- 
sense. We  four  could  not  conquer  the  island.  I 
swallowed  my  pride. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  I.  "  But  look  here,  it's  only 
just  twelve.  We  might  have  a  look  round  before 
we  go.  I  want  to  see  the  place,  you  know." 
For  I  was  very  sorely  vexed  at  being  turned  out 
of  my  island. 

Hogvardt  grumbled  a  little  at  my  proposal, 
but  here  I  overruled  him.  We  took  our  revol- 
vers again,  left  the  inn,  and  struck  straight  up 
the  road.  We  met  nobody.  For  nearly  a  mile 
we  mounted,  the  way  becoming  steeper  with 
every  step.  Then  there  was  a  sharp  turn  off  the 
main  road. 

"  That  will  lead  to  the  house,"  said  Hogvardt, 


38  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

who  had  studied  the  map  of  Neopalia  very  care- 
fully. 

"  Then  we'll  have  a  look  at  the  house.  Show 
us  a  light,  Hogvardt.  It's  precious  dark." 

Hogvardt  opened  his  lantern  and  cast  its  light 
on  the  way.  But  suddenly  he  extinguished  it 
again,  and  drew  us  close  into  the  rocks  that  edged 
the  road.  We  saw  coming  towards  us,  in  the 
darkness,  two  figures.  They  rode  small  horses. 
Their  faces  could  not  be  seen  ;  but  as  they  passed 
our  silent,  motionless  forms,  one  said  in  a  clear, 
sweet,  girlish  voice, — 

"  Surely  they  will  go  ?  " 

"  Aye,  they'll  go  or  pay  the  penalty,"  said  the 
other  voice.  At  the  sound  of  it  I  started.  For 
it  was  the  voice  of  my  neighbour  in  the  restau- 
rant, Constantine  Stefanopoulos. 

"  I  shall  be  near  at  hand,  sleeping  in  the  town," 
said  the  girl's  voice,  "  and  the  people  will  listen 
to  me." 

"  The  people  will  kill  them  if  they  don't  go," 
we  heard  Constantine  answer,  in  tones  that  wit- 
nessed no  great  horror  at  the  idea.  Then  the 
couple  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

"On  to  the  house!"  I  cried  in  sudden  ex- 
citement. For  I  was  angry  now,  angry  at  the 
utter  humbling  scorn  with  which  they  treated 
me. 

Another  ten  minutes'  groping   brought  us  in 


A  Conservative  Country.  39 

front  of  the  old  grey  house  which  we  had  seen 
from  the  sea.  We  walked  boldly  up  to  it.  The 
door  stood  open.  We  went  in  and  found  our- 
selves in  a  large  hall.  The  wooden  floor  was 
carpeted  here  and  there  with  mats  and  skins. 
A  long  table  ran  down  the  middle ;  the  walls 
were  decorated  with  mediaeval  armour  and  wea- 
pons. The  windows  were  but  narrow  slits,  the 
walls  massive  and  deep.  The  door  was  a  pon- 
derous iron-bound  affair ;  it  shamed  even  the 
stout  doors  of  our  inn.  I  called  loudly  "  Is  any  one 
here  ?  "  Nobody  answered.  The  servants  must 
have  been  drawn  off  to  the  town  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  procession  and  the  singing, — or  per- 
haps there  were  no  servants.  I  could  not  tell. 
I  sat  down  in  a  large  arm-chair  by  the  table.  I 
enjoyed  the  sense  of  proprietorship ;  I  was  in  my 
own  house.  Denny  sat  on  the  table  by  me, 
dangling  his  legs.  For  a  long  while  none  of  us 
spoke.  Then  I  exclaimed  suddenly, — 

"  By  heaven,  why  shouldn't  we  see  it  through  ?  " 
I  rose,  put  my  hands  against  the  massive  door, 
and  closed  and  bolted  it,  saying,  "Let  them 
open  that  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Denny,  leaping  down  from 
his  table,  on  fire  with  excitement  in  a  moment. 

I  faced  Hogvardt.  He  shook  his  head,  but  he 
smiled.  Watkins  stood  by  with  his  usual  imper- 
turbability. He  wanted  to  know  what  his  lord- 


40  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

ship  decided — that  was  all ;  and  when  I  said 
nothing  more,  he  asked, — 

"  Then  your  lordship  will  sleep  here  to-night  ?  " 

"  I'll  stay  here  to-night,  anyhow,  Watkins," 
said  I.  "  I'm  not  going  to  be  driven  out  of  my 
own  island  by  anybody." 

As  I  spoke,  I  brought  my  fist  down  on  the 
table  with  a  crash.  And  then  to  our  amazement 
we  heard,  from  somewhere  in  the  dark  recesses 
of  the  hall  where  the  faint  light  of  Hogvardt's 
lantern  did  not  reach,  a  low  but  distinct  groan, 
as  of  some  one  in  pain.  Watkins  shuddered ; 
Hogvardt  looked  rather  uncomfortable ;  Denny 
and  I  listened  eagerly.  Again  the  groan  came.  I 
seized  the  lantern  from  Hogvardt's  hand  and 
rushed  in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  There,  in 
the  corner  of  the  hall,  on  a  couch  covered  with  3 
rug,  lay  an  old  man  in  an  uneasy  attitude,  groan- 
ing now  and  then,  and  turning  restlessly.  By  his 
side  sat  an  old  serving-woman  in  weary,  heavy 
slumber.  In  a  moment  I  guessed  the  truth — 
part  of  the  truth. 

"  He's  not  dead  of  that  fever  yet,"  said  I. 


CHAPTER   m. 
The  Fever  of  Neopalia* 

I  LOOKED  for  a  moment  on  the  old  man's  pale, 
clean-cut,  aristocratic  face  ;  then  I  shook  his  at- 
tendant by  the  arm  vigorously.  She  awoke  with 
a  start. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  I  demanded.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"  Heaven  help  us  !  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  cried, 
leaping  up  in  alarm.  Indeed  we  four,  with  our 
eager,  fierce  faces,  must  have  looked  disquieting 
enough. 

"  I  am  Lord  Wheatley ;  these  are  my  friends," 
I  answered,  in  brisk,  sharp  tones. 

"  What,  it  is  you,  then  ?  "  A  wondering  gaze 
ended  her  question. 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  I.  I  have  bought  the  island. 
We  came  out  for  a  walk  and " 

"  But  he  will  kill  you  if  he  finds  you  here." 

"He?     Who?" 

"  Ah,  pardon,  my  lord  !  They  will  kill  you, 
they — the  people — the  men  of  the  island." 

I    gazed  at  her  sternly.     She  shrank  back  in 


42  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

confusion.     And  I  spoke  at  a  venture,  yet  in  a 
well-grounded  hazard, — 

"  You  mean  that  Constantine~  Stefanopoulos 
will  kill  me?" 

"  Ah,  hush,"  she  cried.  "  He  may  be  here,  he 
may  be  anywhere." 

"  He  may  thank  his  stars  he's  not  here,"  said 
I  grimly,  for  my  blood  was  up.  "  Attend,  woman. 
Who  is  this  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  Lord  of  the  island,  my  lord,  she 
answered.  "Alas,  he  is  wounded,  I  fear,  to 
death.  And  yet  I  fell  asleep.  But  I  was  so 
weary." 

"  Wounded — by  whom?  " 

Her  face  suddenly  became  vacant  and  expres- 
sionless. 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lord.  It  happened  in  the 
crowd.  It  was  a  mistake.  My  dear  Lord  had 
yielded  what  they  asked.  Yet  some  one — no,  by 
heaven,  my  lord,  I  do  not  know  who — stabbed 
him.  And  he  cannot  live." 

"  Tell  me  the  whole  thing,"  I  commanded. 

"  They  came  up  here,  my  lord,  all  of  them, 
Vlacho  and  all,  and  with  them  my  Lord  Con- 
stantine.  The  Lady  Euphrosyne  was  away ;  she 
is  often  away,  down  on  the  rocks  by  the  sea, 
watching  the  waves.  They  came  and  said  that  a 
man  had  landed  who  claimed  our  island  as  his — 
a  man  of  your  name,  my  lord.  And  when  my 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia*  43 

dear  Lord  said  he  had  sold  the  island  to  save  the 
honour  of  his  house  and  race  they  were  furious, 
and  Vlacho  raised  the  death-chant  that  One-eyed 
Alexander  the  Bard  wrote  on  the  death  of  Stefan 
Stefanopoulos  long  ago.  Then  they  came  near 
with  knives,  demanding  that  my  dear  Lord 
should  send  away  the  stranger ;  for  the  men  of 
Neopalia  were  not  to  be  bought  and  sold  like 
bullocks  or  like  pigs.  At  first  my  Lord  would 
not  yield,  and  they  swore  they  would  kill  the 
stranger  and  my  Lord  also.  Then  they  pressed 
closer;  Vlacho  was  hard  on  him  with  drawn 
knife,  and  the  Lord  Constantine  stood  by  him, 
praying  him  to  yield  ;  and  Constantine  drew  his 
own  knife,  saying  to  Vlacho  that  he  must  fight 
him  also  before  he  killed  the  old  Lord.  But  at 
that  Vlacho  smiled.  And  then — and  then — ah, 
my  dear  Lord  !  " 

For  a  moment  her  voice  broke,  and  sobs  sup- 
planted words.  But  she  drew  herself  up,  and, 
after  a  glance  at  the  old  man,  whom  her  vehe- 
ment speech  had  not  availed  to  waken,  she  went 
on. 

"  And  then  those  behind  cried  out  that  there  was 
enough  talk.  Would  he  yield  or  would  he  die  ? 
And  they  rushed  forward,  pressing  the  nearest 
against  him.  And  he,  an  old  man,  frail  and  fee- 
ble (yet  once  he  was  as  brave  a  man  as  any),  cried 
in  his  weak  tones,  '  Enough,  friends,  I  yield, 


44  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

I '  and  they  fell  back.     But  my  Lord  stood 

for  an  instant,  then  he  set  his  hand  to  his  side, 
and  swayed  and  tottered  and  fell ;  the  blood  was 
running  from  his  side.  The  Lord  Constantine 
fell  on  his  knees  beside  him,  crying,  '  Who 
stabbed  him  ? '  Vlacho  smiled  grimly,  and  the 
others  looked  at  one  another.  But  I,  who  had 
run  out  from  the  doorway  whence  I  had  seen  it 
all,  knelt  by  my  Lord  and  staunched  the  blood. 
Then  Vlacho  said,  fixing  his  eyes  straight  and 
keen  on  the  Lord  Constantine,  '  It  was  not  I,  my 
lord.'  '  Nor  I,  by  heaven,'  cried  the  Lord  Con- 
stantine, and  he  rose  to  his  feet,  demanding, 
'  Who  struck  the  blow  ?  '  But  none  answered ; 
and  he  went  on,  '  Nay,  if  it  were  in  error,  if  it 
were  because  he  would  not  yield,  speak.  There 
shall  be  pardon.'  But  Vlacho,  hearing  this, 
turned  himself  round  and  faced  them  all,  saying, 
'  Did  he  not  sell  us  like  oxen  and  like  pigs  ? '  and 
he  broke  into  the  death-chant,  and  they  all  raised 
the  chant,  none  caring  any  more  who  had  struck 
the  blow.  And  the  Lord  Constantine—  The 

impetuous  flow  of  the  old  woman's  story  was 
frozen  to  sudden  silence. 

"  Well,  and  the  Lord  Constantine?"  said  I,  in 
low  stern  tones  that  quivered  with  excitement ; 
and  I  felt  Denny's  hand,  which  was  on  my  arm, 
jump  up  and  down.  "  And  Constantine,  wo- 
man ?  " 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia,  45 

"  Nay,  he  did  nothing,"  said  she.  "  He  talked 
with  Vlacho  awhile,  and  then  they  went  away, 
and  he  bade  me  tend  my  Lord,  and  went  himself 
to  seek  the  Lady  Euphrosyne.  Presently  he 
came  back  with  her :  her  eyes  were  red,  and  she 
wept  afresh  when  she  saw  my  poor  Lord  ;  for 
she  loved  him.  She  sat  by  him  till  Constantine 
came  and  told  her  that  you  would  not  go,  and 
that  you  and  your  friends  would  be  killed  if  you 
did  not  go.  Then,  weeping  to  leave  my  Lord, 
she  went,  praying  heaven  she  might  find  him 
alive  when  she  returned.  '  I  must  go,'  she  said 
to  me,  '  for  though  it  is  a  shameful  thing  that  the 
island  should  have  been  sold,  yet  these  men 
must  be  persuaded  to  go  away  and  not  meet 
death.  Kiss  him  for  me  if  he  awakes.'  Thus 
she  went  and  left  me  with  my  Lord,  and  I  fear 
he  will  die."  She  ended  in  a  burst  of  sobbing. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  Then  I  said 
again,— 

"  Who  struck  the  blow,  woman  ?  Who  struck 
the  blow  ?  " 

She  shrank  from  me  as  though  I  had  struck 
her. 

"  I  do  not  know  ;  I  do  not  know,"  she  moaned. 

But  the  question  she  dared  not  answer  was  to 
find  an  answer. 

The  stricken  man  opened  his  eyes,  his  lips 
moved,  and  he  groaned  :  "  Constantine !  You, 


46  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

Constantine  !  "  The  old  woman's  eyes  met  mine 
for  a  moment  and  fell  to  the  ground  again. 

"Why,  why,  Constantine?"  moaned  the 
wounded  man.  "  I  had  yielded,  I  had  yielded, 
Constantine.  I  would  have  sent  them— 

His  words  ceased,  his  eyes  closed,  his  lips  met 
again,  but  met  only  to  part.  A  moment  later  his 
jaw  dropped.  The  old  Lord  of  Neopalia  was  dead. 

Then  I,  carried  away  by  anger  and  by  hatred 
of  the  man  who,  for  a  reason  I  did  not  yet  un- 
derstand, had  struck  so  foul  a  blow  against  his 
kinsman  and  an  old  man,  did  a  thing  so  rash  that 
it  seems  to  me  now,  when  I  consider  it  in  the 
cold  light  of  memory,  a  mad  deed.  Yet  then  I 
could  do  nothing  else ;  and  Denny's  face,  aye, 
and  the  eyes  of  the  others  too,  told  me  that  they 
were  with  me. 

"  Compose  this  old  man's  body,"  I  said,  "  and 
we  will  watch  it.  But  do  you  go  and  tell  this 
Constantine  Stefanopoulos  that  I  know  his  crime ; 
that  I  know  who  struck  that  blow  ;  that  what  I 
know  all  men  shall  know;  and  that  I  will  not 
rest  day  or  night  until  he  has  paid  the  penalty 
of  this  murder.  Tell  him  I  swore  this  on  the 
honour  of  an  English  gentleman." 

"  And  say  I  swore  it  too  !  "  cried  Denny  ;  and 
Hogvardt  and  Watkins,  not  making  bold  to 
speak,  ranged  up  close  to  me.  I  knew  that  they 
also  meant  what  I  meant. 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia*  47 

The  old  woman  looked  at  me  with  searching 
eyes. 

"You  are  a  bold  man,  my  lord,"  said  she. 

"  I  see  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  up  to  now," 
said  I.  "Such  courage  as  is  needed  to  tell  a 
scoundrel  what  I  think  of  him  I  believe  I  can 
claim." 

"  But  he  will  never  let  you  go  now.  You 
would  go  to  Rhodes,  and  tell  his — tell  what  you 
say  of  him." 

"  Yes,  and  further  than  Rhodes,  if  need  be. 
He  shall  die  for  it  as  sure  as  I  live." 

A  thousand  men  might  have  tried  in  vain  to 
persuade  me ;  the  treachery  of  Constantine  had 
fired  my  heart  and  driven  out  all  opposing  mo- 
tives. 

"  Do  as  I  bid  you,"  said  I  sternly,  "  and  waste 
no  time  on  it.  We  will  watch  here  by  the  old 
man  till  you  return." 

"My  lord,"  she  replied,  "you  run  on  your  own 
death.  And  you  are  young;  and  the  youth  by 
you  is  yet  younger." 

"We  are  not  dead  yet,"  said  Denny;  I  had 
never  seen  him  look  as  he  did  then  ;  for  the 
gaiety  was  out  of  his  face,  and  his  lips  had  grown 
set  and  hard. 

She  raised  her  hands  towards  heaven,  whether 
in  prayer  or  lamentation  I  do  not  know.  We 
turned  away  and  left  her  to  her  sad  work ;  going 


48  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

back  to  our  places,  we  waited  there  till  dawn 
began  to  break  and  from  the  narrow  windows  we 
saw  the  grey  crests  of  the  waves  dancing  and 
frolicking  in  the  early  dawn.  As  I  watched 
them,  the  old  woman  was  by  my  elbow. 

"  It  is  done,  my  lord,"  said  she.  "  Are  you 
still  of  the  same  mind  ?  " 

"  Still  of  the  same,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  death,  death  for  you  all,"  she  said,  and 
without  more  she  went  to  the  great  door. 
Hogvardt  opened  it  for  her,  and  she  walked 
away  down  the  road,  between  the  high  rocks 
that  bounded  the  path  on  either  side.  Then  we 
went  and  carried  the  old  man  to  a  room  that 
opened  off  the  hall,  and,  returning,  stood  in  the 
doorway,  cooling  our  brows  in  the  fresh  early  air. 
While  we  stood  there,  Hogvardt  said  suddenly, — 

"  It  is  five  o'clock." 

"  Then  we  have  only  an  hour  to  live,"  said  I, 
smiling,  "  if  we  don't  make  for  the  yacht." 

"  You're  not  going  back  to  the  yacht,  my 
lord?" 

"I'm  puzzled,"  I  admitted.  "If  we  go  this 
ruffian  will  escape.  And  if  we  don't  go " 

"  Why,  we,"  Hogvardt  ended  for  me,  "  may 
not  escape." 

I  saw  that  Hogvardt's  sense  of  responsibility 
was  heavy ;  he  always  regarded  himself  as  the 
shepherd,  his  employers  as  the  sheep.  I  believe 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia*  49 

this  attitude  of  his  confirmed  my  obstinacy,  for 
I  said,  without  further  hesitation, — 

"  Oh,  we'll  chance  that.  When  they  know 
what  a  villain  the  fellow  is,  they'll  turn  against 
him.  Besides,  we  said  we'd  wait  here." 

Denny  seized  on  my  last  words  with  alacrity. 
When  you  are  determined  to  do  a  rash  thing, 
there  is  great  comfort  in  feeling  that  you  are 
already  committed  to  it  by  some  previous  act  or 
promise. 

"  So  we  did,"  he  cried.  "  Then  that  settles  it, 
Hogvardt." 

"  His  lordship  certainly  expressed  that  inten- 
tion," observed  Watkins,  appearing  at  this  mo- 
ment with  a  big  loaf  of  bread  and  a  great  pitcher 
of  milk.  I  eyed  these  viands. 

"  I  bought  the  house  and  its  contents,"  said  I ; 
"  come  along." 

Watkins's  further  researches  produced  a  large 
lump  of  native  cheese ;  when  he  had  set  this 
down  he  remarked, — 

"  In  a  pen  behind  the  house,  close  to  the 
kitchen  windows,  there  are  two  goats  ;  and  your 
lordship  sees  there,  on  the  right  of  the  frontdoor, 
two  cows  tethered." 

I  began  to  laugh,  Watkins  was  so  wise  and 
solemn. 

"  We  can  stand  a  siege,  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked. 
"  Well,  I  hope  it  won't  come  to  that." 


50  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

Hogvardt  rose  and  began  to  move  round  the 
hall,  examining  the  weapons  that  decorated  the 
walls.  From  time  to  time  he  grunted  disapprov- 
ingly ;  the  guns  were  useless,  rusted,  out  of  date  ; 
and  there  was  no  ammunition  for  them.  But 
when  he  had  almost  completed  his  circuit,  he 
gave  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction,  and  came  to 
me  holding  an  excellent  modern  rifle  and  a  large 
cartridge-case. 

"  See ! "  he  grunted,  in  huge  satisfaction. 
"  '  C.  S.'  on  the  stock.  I  expect  you  can  guess 
whose  it  is,  my  lord." 

"  This  is  very  thoughtful  of  Constantine,"  ob- 
served Denny,  who  was  employing  himself  in 
cutting  imaginary  lemons  in  two  with  a  fine 
damascened  scimitar  that  he  had  taken  from  the 
wall. 

"  As  for  the  cows,"  said  I,  "  perhaps  they  will 
carry  them  off." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Hogvardt,  taking  an  aim 
with  the  rifle  through  the  window. 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  five  minutes 
past  six. 

"  Well,  we  can't  go  now,"  said  I.  "  It's  settled. 
What  a  comfort !  "  I  wonder  whether  I  had 
ever  in  my  heart  meant  to  go  ! 

The  next  hour  passed  very  quietly.  We  sat 
smoking  pipes  or  cigars  and  talking  in  subdued 
tones.  The  recollection  of  the  dead  man  in  the 


The  Fever  of  Neopatta.  51 

adjoining  room  sobered  the  excitement  to  which 
our  position  might  otherwise  have  given  occa- 
sion. Indeed  I  suppose  that  I,  at  least,  who 
through  my  whim  had  led  the  rest  into  this 
quandary,  should  have  been  utterly  overwhelmed 
by  the  burden  on  me.  But  I  was  not.  Perhaps 
Hogvardt's  assumption  of  responsibility  re- 
lieved me ;  perhaps  I  was  too  full  of  anger 
against  Constantine  to  think  of  the  risks  we  our- 
selves ran ;  and  I  was  more  than  half-persuaded 
that  the  revelation  of  what  he  had  done  would 
rob  him  of  his  power  to  hurt  us.  Moreover,  if 
I  might  judge  from  the  words  I  heard  on  the 
road,  we  had  on  our  side  an  ally  of  uncertain, 
but  probably  considerable,  power  in  the  sweet- 
voiced  girl  whom  the  old  woman  called  the  Lady 
Euphrosyne :  she  would  not  support  her  uncle's 
murderer,  even  though  he  were  her  cousin. 

Presently  Watkins  carried  me  off  to  view  his 
pen  of  goats,  and,  having  passed  through  the 
lofty  flagged  kitchen,  I  found  myself  in  a  sort  of 
compound,  formed  by  the  rocks.  The  ground 
had  been  levelled  for  a  few  yards,  and  the  rocks 
rose  straight  to  the  height  of  ten  or  twelve  feet ; 
from  the  top  of  this  artificial  bank  they  ran 
again  in  wooded  slopes  towards  the  peak  of  the 
mountain.  I  followed  their  course  with  my  eye, 
and  three  hundred  or  more  feet  above  us,  just 
beneath  the  summit,  I  perceived  a  little  wooden 


52  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

chdlet  or  bungalow.  Blue  smoke  issued  from 
the  chimneys ;  and,  even  while  we  looked,  a 
figure  came  out  of  the  door  and  stood  still  in 

o 

front  of  it,  apparently  gazing  down  towards  the 
house. 

"  It's  a  woman,"  I  pronounced. 

"Yes,  my  lord.     A  peasant's  wife,  I  suppose." 

"I  dare  say,"  said  I.  But  I  soon  doubted 
Watkins's  opinion ;  in  the  first  place,  because 
the  woman's  dress  did  not  look  like  that  of  a 
peasant  woman  ;  and  secondly,  because  she  went 
into  the  house,  appeared  again,  and  levelled  at 
us  what  was,  if  I  mistook  not,  a  large  pair  of 
binocular  glasses.  Now  such  things  were  not 
likely  to  be  in  the  possession  of  the  peasants  of 
Neopalia.  Then  she  suddenly  retreated,  and 
through  the  silence  of  those  still  slopes  we  heard 
the  door  of  the  cottage  closed  with  violence. 

"  She  doesn't  seem  to  like  the  looks  of  us," 
said  I. 

"  Possibly,"  suggested  Watkins  with  deference, 
"she  did  not  expect  to  see  your  lordship  here." 

"  I  should  think  that's  very  likely,  Watkins," 
said  I. 

I  was  recalled  from  the  survey  of  my  new  do- 
mains— my  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that  they 
were  mine  survived  all  the  disturbing  features  of 
the  situation — by  a  call  from  Denny.  In  re- 
sponse to  it  I  hurried  back  to  the  hall  and  found 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia.  53 

him  at  the  window,  with  Constantine's  rifle  rested 
on  the  sill. 

"  I  could  pick  him  off  pat,"  said  Denny  laugh- 
ingly, and  he  pointed  to  a  figure  which  was  ap- 
proaching the  house.  It  was  a  man  riding  a  stout 
pony ;  when  he  came  within  about  two  hundred 
yards  of  the  house,  he  stopped,  took  a  leisurely 
look,  and  then  waved  a  white  handkerchief. 

"  The  laws  of  war  must  be  observed,"  said  I, 
smiling.  "  This  is  a  flag  of  truce."  I  opened 
the  door,  stepped  out,  and  waved  my  handker- 
chief in  return.  The  man,  reassured,  began  to 
mop  his  brow  with  the  flag  of  truce,  and  put  his 
pony  to  a  trot.  I  now  perceived  him  to  be  the 
innkeeper,  Vlacho,  and  a  moment  later  he  reined 
up  beside  me,  giving  an  angry  jerk  at  his  pony's 
bridle. 

"  I  have  searched  the  island  for  you,"  he  cried. 
"  I  am  weary  and  hot  !  How  came  you  here?" 

I  explained  to  him  briefly  how  I  had  chanced 
to  take  possession  of  my  house,  and  added  sig- 
nificantly,— 

"But  has  no  message  come  to  you  from  me?" 

He  smiled  with  equal  meaning,  as  he  an- 
swered,— 

'  No  ;  an  old  woman  came  to  speak  to  a  gen- 
tleman who  is  in  the  village " 

"Yes,  to  Constantine  Stefanopoulos,"  said  I 
with  a  nod. 


54  Phroso :  A  Romance. 

"Well  then,  if  you  will,  to  the  Lord  Constan- 
tine,"  he  admitted  with  a  careless  shrug,  "but 
her  message  was  for  his  ear  only ;  he  took  her 
aside  and  they  talked  alone." 

"  You  know  what  she  said,  though  ?  " 

"  That  is  between  my  Lord  Constantine  and 
me." 

"And  the  young  lady  knows  it,  I  hope — the 
Lady  Euphrosyne  ?  " 

Vlacho  smiled  broadly. 

"  We  could  not  distress  her  with  such  a  silly 
tale,"  he  answered  ;  and  he  leaned  down  toward 
me.  "  Nobody  has  heard  the  message  but  the 
Lord  Constantine  and  one  man  he  told  it  to. 
And  nobody  will.  If  that  old  woman  spoke,  she 
well,  she  knows  and  will  not  speak/' 

"  And  you  back  up  this  murderer  ?  "  I  cried. 

"Murderer?"  he  repeated  questioningly. 
"  Indeed,  sir,  it  was  an  accident  done  in  hot 
blood.  It  was  the  old  man's  fault,  because  he 
tried  to  sell  the  island." 

"  He  did  sell  the  island,"  I  corrected,  "  and  a 
good  many  other  people  will  hear  of  what  hap- 
pened to  him." 

He  looked  at  me  again,  smiling. 

"  If  you  shouted  it  in  the  hearing  of  every  man 
in  Neopalia,  what  would  they  do  ?  "  he  asked 
scornfully. 

"Well,    I    should    hope,"    I    returned,    "that 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia.  55 

they'd  hang  Constantine  to  the  tallest  tree  you've 
got  here." 

"  They  would  do  this,"  he  said  with  a  nod  ; 
and  he  began  to  sing  softly  the  chant  I  had  heard 
the  night  before. 

I  was  disgusted  at  his  savagery,  but  I  said 
coolly, — 

"  And  the  Lady  ?  " 

"  The  Lady  believes  what  she  is  told,  and  will 
do  as  her  cousin  bids  her.  Is  she  not  his  affianced 
wife?" 

"  The  deuce  she  is !  "  I  cried  in  amazement,  fix- 
ing a  keen  scrutiny  on  Vlacho's  face.  The  face 
told  me  nothing. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said  gently.  "  And  they  will 
rule  the  island  together." 

"  Will  they,  though  ?  "  said  I.  I  was  becoming 
rather  annoyed.  "  There  are  one  or  two  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  that.  First,  it's  my  island." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  again.  "  That,"  he 
seemed  to  say,  "  is  not  worth  answering."  But  I 
had  a  second  shot  in  the  locker  for  him,  and  I 
let  him  have  it  for  what  it  was  worth.  I  knew  it 
might  be  worth  nothing,  but  I  tried  it. 

"  And  secondly,"  I  went  on,  "  how  many  wives 
does  Constantine  propose  to  have?" 

A  hit!  A  hit!  A  palpable  hit!  I  could 
have  sung  in  glee.  The  fellow  was  dumbfounded. 
He  turned  red,  bit  his  lip,  scowled  fiercely. 


56  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  blurted  out,  with 
an  attempt  at  blusteriug  defiance. 

"  Never  mind  what  I  mean.  Something,  per- 
haps,  that  the  Lady  Euphrosyne  might  care  to 
know.  And  now,  my  man,  what  do  you  want  of 
me?" 

He  recovered  his  composure,  and  stated  his 
errand  with  his  old  cool  assurance ;  but  the  cloud 
of  vexation  still  hung  heavy  on  his  brow. 

"  On  behalf  of  the  Lady  of  the  island "  he 

began. 

"  Or  shall  we  say  her  cousin  ?  "  I  interrupted. 

"  Which  you  will,"  he  answered,  as  though  it 
were  not  worth  while  to  wear  the  mask  any 
longer.  "  On  behalf,  then,  of  my  Lord  Constan- 
tine,  I  am  to  offer  you  safe  passage  to  your  boat, 
and  a  return  of  the  money  you  have  paid " 

"  How's  he  going  to  pay  that  ?  " 

"  He  will  pay  it  in  a  year,  and  give  you  security 
meanwhile." 

"  And  the  condition  is  that  I  give  up  the  is- 
land ?  "  I  asked.  I  began  to  think  that  perhaps 
I  owed  it  to  my  companions  to  acquiesce  in  this 
proposal,  however  distasteful  it  might  be  to  me. 

"Yes,"  said  Vlacho,  "and  there  is  one  other 
small  condition,  which  will  not  trouble  you." 

"What's  that?     You're  rich  in  conditions." 

"You're  lucky  to  be  offered  any.  It  is  that 
you  mind  your  own  business." 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia.  57 

"  I  came  here  for  the  purpose,"  I  observed. 

"And  that  you  undertake,  for  yourself  and 
your  companions,  on  your  word  of  honour,  to 
speak  to  nobody  of  what  has  passed  on  the  island 
or  of  the  affairs  of  the  Lord  Constantine." 

"  And  if  I  won't  give  this  promise?  " 

"  The  yacht  is  in  our  hands.  Demetri  and 
Spiro  are  our  men  ;  there  will  be  no  ship  here  for 

two  months '  The  fellow  paused,  smiling  at 

me.  I  took  the  liberty  of  ending  his  period  for 
him. 

"  And  there  is,"  I  said,  returning  his  smile,  "  as 
we  know  by  now,  a  particularly  sudden  and  fatal 
form  of  fever  in  the  island." 

"  Certainly  you  may  chance  to  find  that  out," 
said  he. 

"But  is  there  no  antidote?"  I  asked,  and  I 
showed  him  the  butt  of  my  revolver  in  the  pocket 
of  my  coat. 

"  It  may  keep  it  off  for  a  day  or  two — not 
longer.  You  have  the  bottle  there,  but  most  of 
the  drug  is  with  your  baggage  at  the  inn." 

His  parable  was  true  enough  ;  we  had  only  two 
or  three  dozen  cartridges  apiece. 

"  But  there's  plenty  of  food  for  Constantine's 
rifle,"  said  I,  pointing  to  the  muzzle  of  it,  which 
protruded  from  the  window. 

He  suddenly  became  impatient. 

"  Your  answer,  sir  ?  "  he  demanded  peremptorily. 


58  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"Here  it  is,"  said  I.  "I'll  keep  the  island 
and  I'll  see  Constantine  hanged." 

"  So  be  it,  so  be  it,"  he  cried.  "  You  are 
warned,  so  be  it !  "  Without  another  word  he 
turned  his  pony  and  trotted  rapidly  off  down  the 
road.  And  I  went  back  to  the  house,  feeling,  I 
must  confess,  not  in  the  best  of  spirits.  But 
when  my  friends  heard  all  that  had  passed,  they 
applauded  me,  and  we  made  up  our  minds  to 
"  see  it  through,"  as  Denny  said. 

That  day  passed  quietly.  At  noon  we  carried 
the  old  Lord  out  of  his  house,  having  wrapped 
him  in  a  sheet ;  we  dug  for  him  as  good  a  grave 
as  we  could  in  a  little  patch  of  ground  that  lay 
outside  the  windows  of  his  own  chapel,  a  small 
erection  at  the  west  end  of  the  house.  There  he 
must  lie  for  the  present.  This  sad  work  done, 
we  came  back  and — so  swift  are  life's  changes — 
killed  a  goat  for  dinner,  and  watched  Watkins 
dress  it.  Thus  the  afternoon  wore  away,  and 
when  evening  came  we  ate  our  goat-flesh  and 
Hogvardt  milked  our  cows ;  then  we  sat  down 
to  consider  the  position  of  the  garrison. 

But  the  evening  was  hot,  and  we  adjourned 
out  of  doors,  grouping  ourselves  on  the  broad 
marble  pavement  in  front  of  the  door.  Hogvardt 
had  just  begun  to  expound  a  very  elaborate 
scheme  of  escape,  depending,  so  far  as  I  could 
make  out,  on  our  reaching  the  other  side  of  the 


The  Fever  of  Neopalia.  59 

island  and  finding  there  a  boat  which  we  had  no 
reason  to  suppose  would  be  there,  when  Denny 
raised  his  hand,  saying  "  Hark  !  " 

From  the  direction  of  the  village  and  the  har- 
bour came  the  sound  of  a  horn,  blowing  long  and 
shrill,  and  echoed  back  in  strange  protracted 
shrieks  and  groans  from  the  hillside  behind  us. 
And  following  on  the  blast  we  heard,  low  in  the 
distance  and  indistinct,  yet  rising  and  falling  and 
rising  again  in  savage  defiance  and  exultation, 
the  death-chant  that  One-eyed  Alexander  the 
Bard  had  made  on  the  death  of  Stefan  Stefano- 
poulos  two  hundred  years  ago.  For  a  few 
minutes  we  sat  listening  ;  I  do  not  think  that  any 
of  us  felt  very  comfortable.  Then  I  rose  to  my 
feet,  saying, — 

"  Hogvardt,  old  fellow,  I  fancy  that  scheme  of 
yours  must  wait  a  little.  Unless  I'm  very  much 
mistaken,  we're  going  to  have  a  lively  evening." 

Well,  then  we  shook  hands  all  round,  and  went 
in  and  bolted  the  door,  and  sat  down  to  wait. 
We  heard  the  death-chant  through  the  walls 
now  ;  it  was  coming  nearer. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
A  Raid  and  a  Raider. 

IT  was  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock  when 
the  first  of  the  enemy  appeared  on  the  road  in 
the  persons  of  two  smart  fellows  in  gleaming  kilts 
and  braided  jackets.  It  was  no  more  than  just 
dusk,  and  I  saw  that  they  were  strangers  to  me. 
One  was  tall  and  broad,  the  other  shorter  and  of 
very  slight  build.  They  came  on  towards  us 
confidently  enough.  I  was  looking  over  Denny's 
shoulder ;  he  held  Constantine's  rifle,  and  I  knew 
that  he  was  impatient  to  try  it.  But,  inasmuch 
as  might  was  certainly  not  on  our  side,  I  was 
determined  that  right  should  abide  with  us,  and 
was  resolute  not  to  begin  hostilities.  Constan- 
tine  had  at  least  one  powerful  motive  for  desir- 
ing our  destruction  ;  I  would  not  furnish  him 
with  any  plausible  excuse  for  indulging  his  wish  : 
so  we  stood,  Denny  and  I  at  one  window,  Hog- 
vardt  and  Watkins  at  the  other,  and  quietly 
watched  the  approaching  figures.  No  more 
appeared  ;  the  main  body  did  not  show  itself, 
and  the  sound  of  the  fierce  chant  had  suddenly 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  61 

died  away.  But  the  next  moment  a  third  man 
came  in  sight,  running  rapidly  after  the  first  two. 
He  caught  the  shorter  by  the  arm,  and  seemed 
to  argue  or  expostulate  with  him.  For  a  while 
the  three  stood  thus  talking  ;  then  I  saw  the  last 
comer  make  a  gesture  of  protest  as  though  he 
yielded  his  point  unwillingly,  and  they  all  came 
on  together. 

"  Push  the  barrel  of  that  rifle  a  little  farther 
out,"  said  I  to  Denny.  "  It  may  be  useful  to 
them  to  know  it's  there." 

Denny  obeyed.  The  result  was  a  sudden 
pause  in  our  friends'  advance  ;  but  they  were  near 
enough  now  for  me  to  distinguish  the  last  comer, 
and  I  discerned  in  him,  although  he  had  dis- 
carded his  tweed  suit  and  adopted  the  national 
dress,  Constantine  Stefanopoulos  himself. 

"  Here's  an  exercise  of  self-control ! "  I 
groaned,  laying  a  detaining  hand  on  Denny's 
shoulder. 

As  I  spoke,  Constantine  put  a  whistle  to  his 
lips  and  blew  loudly.  The  blast  was  followed  by 
the  appearance  of  five  more  fellows ;  in  three  of 
them  I  recognized  old  acquaintances, — Vlacho, 
Demetri,  and  Spiro.  These  three  all  carried 
guns.  The  whole  eight  came  forward  again  till 
they  were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  us.  There 
they  halted,  and,  with  a  sudden  swift  movement, 
three  barrels  were  levelled  straight  at  the  win- 


62  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

dow  where  Denny  and  I  were  stationed.  Well, 
we  ducked  ;  there  is  no  use  in  denying  it  ;  for 
we  thought  that  the  bombardment  had  really 
begun.  Yet  no  shot  followed,  and  after  an  in- 
stant, holding  Denny  down,  I  peered  out  cau- 
tiously myself.  The  three  stood  motionless, 
their  aim  full  on  us.  The  other  five  were  ad- 
vancing warily,  well  under  the  shelter  of  the 
rock,  two  on  the  left  side  of  the  road  and  three 
on  the  right.  The  slim  boyish  fellow  was  with 
Constantine  on  the  left ;  a  moment  later  the  other 
three  dashed  across  the  road  and  joined  them. 
In  a  moment  what  military  men  call  "the  objec- 
tive," the  aim  of  these  manoeuvres,  flashed  across 
me.  It  was  simple  almost  to  ludicrousness  •  yet 
it  was  very  serious,  for  it  showed  a  reasoned  plan 
of  campaign  with  which  we  were  very  ill-prepared 
to  cope.  While  the  three  held  us  in  check,  the 
five  were  going  to  carry  off  our  cows.  Without 
our  cows  we  should  soon  be  hard  put  to  it  for 
food,  for  the  cows  had  formed  in  our  plans  a  most 
important  piece  de  resistance. 

"This  won't  do,"  said  I.  "They're  after  the 
cows."  I  took  the  rifle  from  Denny's  hand,  cau- 
tioning him  not  to  show  his  face  at  the  window. 
Then  I  stood  in  the  shelter  of  the  wall,  so  that  I 
could  not  be  hit  by  the  three,  and  levelled  the 
rifle,  not  at  my  human  enemies,  but  at  the  un- 
offending cows. 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  63 

"  A  dead  cow,"  I  remarked,  "  is  a  great  deal 
harder  to  move  than  alive  one." 

The  five  had  now  come  quite  near  the  pen  of 
rude  hurdles  in  which  the  cows  were.  As  I 
spoke,  Constantine  appeared  to  give  some  order  ; 
and  while  he  and  the  boy  stood  looking  on,  Con- 
stantine leaning  on  his  gun,  the  boy's  hand  rest- 
ing with  jaunty  elegance  on  the  handle  of  the 
knife  in  his  girdle,  the  others  leaped  over  the 
hurdles.  Crack!  went  the  rifle,  and  a  cow  fell. 
I  reloaded  hastily.  Crack  !  and  the  second  cow 
fell.  It  was  very  fair  shooting  in  such  a  bad 
light,  for  I  hit  both  mortally  ;  my  skill  was  re- 
warded by  a  shout  of  anger  from  the  robbers. 
(For  robbers  they  were ;  I  had  bought  the  live- 
stock.) 

"  Carry  them  off  now !  "  I  cried,  carelessly 
showing  myself  at  the  window.  But  I  did  not 
stay  there  long,  for  three  shots  rang  out,  and  the 
bullets  pattered  on  the  masonry  above  me. 
Luckily  the  covering-party  had  aimed  a  trifle  too 
high. 

"  No  more  milk,  my  lord,"  observed  Watkins 
in  a  regretful  tone.  He  had  seen  the  catastrophe 
from  the  other  window. 

The  besiegers  were  checked.  They  leaped  out 
of  the  pen  with  alacrity.  I  suppose  they  realised 
that  they  were  exposed  to  my  fire,  while  at  that 
particular  angle  I  was  protected  from  the  attack 


64  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

of  their  friends.  They  withdrew  to  the  middle 
of  the  road,  selecting  a  spot  at  which  I  could  not 
take  aim  without  showing  myself  at  the  window. 
I  dared  not  look  out  to  see  what  they  were  doing. 
But  presently  Hogvardt  risked  a  glance,  and 
called  out  that  they  were  in  retreat  and  had  re- 
joined the  three,  and  that  the  whole  body  stood 
together  in  consultation  and  were  no  longer  cov- 
ering my  window.  So  I  looked  out,  and  saw  the 
boy  standing  in  an  easy  graceful  attitude,  while 
Constantine  and  Vlacho  talked  a  little  way  apart. 
It  was  growing  considerably  darker  now,  and  the 
figures  became  dim  and  indistinct. 

"  I  think  the  fun's  over  for  to-night,"  said  I, 
glad  to  have  it  over  so  cheaply. 

Indeed,  what  I  said  seemed  to  be  true,  for  the 
next  moment  the  group  turned  and  began  to  re- 
treat along  the  road,  moving  briskly  out  of  our 
sight.  We  were  left  in  the  thick  gloom  of  a  moon- 
less evening  and  the  peaceful  silence  of  still  air. 

"  They'll  come  back  and  fetch  the  cows,"  said 
Hogvardt.  "  Couldn't  we  drag  one  in,  my  lord, 
and  put  it  where  the  goat  is,  behind  the  house?  " 

I  approved  of  this  suggestion  ;  and,  Watkins 
having  found  a  rope,  I  armed  Denny  with  the 
rifle,  took  from  the  wall  a  large,  keen  hunting- 
knife,  opened  the  door,  and  stole  out,  accom- 
panied by  Hogvardt  and  Watkins,  who  carried 
their  revolvers.  We  reached  the  pen  without 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  65 

interruption,  tied  our  rope  firmly  round  the  horns 
of  one  of  the  dead  beasts,  and  set  to  work  to 
drag  it  along.  It  was  no  child's  play,  and  our 
progress  was  very  slow,  but  the  carcass  moved, 
and  I  gave  a  shout  of  encouragement  as  we  got 
it  down  on  to  the  smoother  ground  of  the  road 
and  hauled  it  along  with  a  will.  Alas,  that  shout 
was  a  great  indiscretion  !  I  had  been  too  hasty 
in  assuming  that  our  enemy  was  quite  gone.  We 
heard  suddenly  the  rush  of  feet ;  shots  whistled 
over  our  heads.  We  had  but  just  time  to  drop 
the  rope  and  turn  round,  when  Denny's  rifle  rang 
out,  and  then — somebody  was  at  us !  I  really 
do  not  know  exactly  how  many  there  were.  I 
had  two  at  me,  but  by  great  good  luck  I  drove 
my  big  knife  into  one  fellow  s  arm  at  the  first 
hazard,  and  I  think  that  was  enough  for  him.  In 
my  other  assailant  I  recognised  Vlacho.  The 
fat  innkeeper  had  got  rid  of  his  gun,  and  had  a 
knife  much  like  the  one  I  carried  myself.  I 
knew  him  more  by  his  voice,  as  he  cried  fiercely, 
"Come  on!"  than  by  his  appearance,  for  the 
darkness  was  thick  now.  Parrying  his  fierce 
thrust — he  was  very  active  for  so  stout  a  man — I 
called  out  to  our  people  to  fall  back  as  quickly 
as  they  could,  for  I  was  afraid  that  we  might  be 
taken  in  the  rear  also. 

But  discipline  is  hard  to  maintain  in  such  a 
force  as  mine. 


66  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  Bosh  !  "  cried  Denny's  voice. 

"  Mein  Gott,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Hogvardt.  Wat- 
kins  said  nothing,  but  for  once  in  his  life  he  also 
disobeyed  me. 

Well,  if  they  would  not  do  as  I  said,  I  must  do 
as  they  did.  The  line  advanced, — the  whole 
line,  as  at  Waterloo.  We  pressed  them  hard.  I 
heard  a  revolver  fired,  and  a  cry  follow.  Fat 
Vlacho  slackened  in  his  attack,  wavered,  halted, 
turned,  and  ran.  A  shout  of  triumph  from 
Denny  told  me  that  the  battle  was  going  well 
there.  Fired  with  victory,  I  set  myself  for  a 
chase.  But,  alas,  my  pride  was  checked.  Before 
I  had  gone  two  yards  I  fell  headlong  over  the 
body  for  which  we  had  been  fighting  (as  Greeks 
and  Trojans  fought  for  the  body  of  Hector),  and 
came  to  an  abrupt  stop,  sprawling  most  ignomi- 
niously  over  the  cow's  broad  back. 

"  Stop  !  Stop  !  "  I  cried.  "  Wait  a  bit,  Denny ! 
I'm  down  over  this  infernal  cow."  It  was 
an  inglorious  ending  to  the  exploits  of  the  even- 
ing. 

Prudence  or  my  cry  stopped  them.  The 
enemy  was  in  full  retreat ;  their  steps  pattered 
quick  along  the  rocky  road ;  and  Denny  ob- 
served, in  a  tone  of  immense  satisfaction, — 

"  I  think  that's  our  trick,  Charley." 

"  Anybody  hurt  ?  "  I  asked,  scrambling  to  my 
feet. 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  67 

Watkins  owned  to  a  crack  from  the  stock  of  a 
gun  on  his  right  shoulder,  Hogvardt  to  a  graze 
of  a  knife  on  the  left  arm.  Denny  was  unhurt. 
We  had  reason  to  suppose  that  we  had  left  our 
mark  on  at  least  two  of  the  enemy.  For  so 
great  a  victory  it  was  cheaply  bought. 

"We'll  just  drag  in  the  cow,"  said  I, — I  like 
to  stick  to  my  point, — "  and  then  we  might  see 
if  there's  anything  in  the  cellar." 

We  did  drag  in  the  cow  ;  we  dragged  it  through 
the  house,  and  finally  bestowed  it  in  the  com- 
pound behind.  Hogvardt  suggested  that  we 
should  fetch  the  other  also,  but  I  had  no  mind 
for  another  surprise,  which  might  not  end  so  hap- 
pily, and  I  decided  to  run  the  risk  of  leaving  the 
second  animal  till  the  morning.  So  Watkins  ran 
off  to  seek  for  some  wine,  for  which  we  all  felt 
very  ready,  and  I  went  to  the  door  with  the  in- 
tention of  securing  it.  But  before  I  shut  it,  I 
stood  for  a  moment  on  the  step,  looking  out  on 
the  night  and  sniffing  the  sweet,  clear,  pure  air. 
It  was  in  quiet  moments  like  this — not  in  such  a 
tumult  as  had  just  passed — that  I  had  pictured 
my  beautiful  island ;  and  the  love  of  it  came  on 
me  now  and  made  me  swear  that  these  fellows 
and  their  arch-ruffian,  Constantine,  should  not 
drive  me  out  of  it  without  some  more — and  more 
serious — blows  than  had  been  struck  that  night. 
If  I  could  get  away  safely  and  return  with 


68  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

enough  force  to  keep  them  quiet,  I  would  pursue 
that  course.  If  not — well,  I  believe  I  had  very 
bloodthirsty  thoughts  in  my  mind,  as  even  the 
most  peaceable  man  may  when  he  has  been 
served  as  I  had  and  his  friends  roughly  handled 
on  his  account. 

Having  registered  these  determinations,  I  was 
about  to  proceed  with  my  task  of  securing  the 
door  when  I  heard  a  sound  that  startled  me. 
There  was  nothing  hostile  or  alarming  about  it ; 
rather  it  was  pathetic  and  appealing,  and,  in  spite 
of  my  previous  fierceness  of  mood,  it  caused  me 
to  exclaim,  "  Hullo,  is  that  one  of  those  poor 
beggars  we  mauled  ? "  For  the  sound  was  a 
faint,  distressed  sigh,  as  of  somebody  in  suffer- 
ing ;  it  seemed  to  come  from  out  of  the  darkness 
about  a  dozen  yards  ahead  of  me.  My  first  im- 
pulse was  to  go  straight  to  the  spot,  but  I  had 
begun  by  now  to  doubt  whether  the  Neopalians 
were  not  unsophisticated  in  quite  as  peculiar  a 
sense  as  that  in  which  they  were  good-hearted, 
and  I  called  to  Denny  and  Hogvardt,  bidding 
the  latter  to  bring  his  lantern  with  him.  Thus 
protected,  I  stepped  out  of  the  door  in  the  direc- 
tion from  which  the  sigh  had  come.  Apparently 
we  were  to  crown  our  victory  by  the  capture  of 
a  wounded  enemy. 

An  exclamation  from  Hogvardt  told  me  that 
he,  aided  by  the  lantern,  had  come  on  the  quarry ; 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider*  69 

but  Hogvardt  spoke  in  disgust  rather  than  tri- 
umph. 

"  Oh,  it's  only  the  little  one ! "  said  he. 
"  What's  wrong  with  him,  I  wonder."  He  stooped 
down  and  examined  the  prostrate  form.  "  By 
heaven,  I  believe  he's  not  touched — yes,  there's 
a  bump  on  his  forehead,  but  not  big  enough  for 
any  of  us  to  have  given  it." 

By  this  time  Denny  and  I  were  with  him,  and 
we  looked  down  on  the  boy's  pale  face,  which 
seemed  almost  deathlike  in  the  glare  of  the  lan- 
tern. The  bump  was  not  such  a  very  small  one, 
but  it  could  hardly  have  been  made  by  any  of  our 
weapons,  for  the  flesh  was  not  cut.  A  moment's 
further  inspection  showed  that  it  must  be  the 
result  of  a  fall  on  the  hard  rocky  road. 

"  Perhaps  he  tripped  on  the  cord,  as  you  did 
on  the  cow,"  suggested  Denny  with  a  grin. 

It  seemed  likely  enough,  but  I  gave  very  little 
thought  to  the  question,  for  I  was  busy  studying 
the  boy's  face. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Hogvardt.  "  He  fell  in  run- 
ning away  and  was  stunned  ;  and  they  didn't 
notice  it  in  the  dark,  or  were  afraid  to  stop.  But 
they'll  be  back,  my  lord,  and  soon." 

"  Carry  him  inside,"  said  I.  "  It  won't  hurt  us 
to  have  a  hostage." 

Denny  lifted  the  lad  in  his  long  arms — Denny 
was  a  tall,  powerful  fellow — and  strode  off  with 


70  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

him.  I  followed,  wondering  who  it  was  that  we 
had  got  hold  of  :  for  the  boy  was  strikingly 
handsome.  I  was  last  in  and  barred  the  door. 
Denny  had  set  our  prisoner  down  in  an  arm- 
chair, where  he  sat  now,  conscious  again,  but 
still  with  a  dazed  look  in  his  large  dark  eyes  as 
he  glanced  from  me  to  the  rest  and  back  again  to 
me,  finally  fixing  a  long  gaze  on  my  face. 

"Well,  young  man,"  said  I,  "you've  begun 
this  sort  of  thing  early.  Lifting  cattle  and  tak- 
ing murder  in  the  day's  work  is  pretty  good  for 
a  youngster  like  you.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  he  cried,  in  that  blurred  in- 
distinct kind  of  voice  that  comes  with  mental 
bewilderment. 

"You're  in  my  house,"  said  I,  "and  the  rest 
of  your  infernal  gang's  outside  and  going  to 
stay  there.  So  you  must  make  the  best  of  it." 

The  boy  turned  his  head  away  and  closed  his 
eyes.  Suddenly  I  snatched  the  lantern  from 
Hogvardt.  But  I  paused  before  I  brought  it 
close  to  the  boy's  face,  as  I  had  meant  to  do,  and 
I  said, — 

"You  fellows  go  and  get  something  to  eat,  and 
a  snooze  if  you  like.  I'll  look  after  this  young- 
ster. I'll  call  you  if  anything  happens  outside." 

After  a  few  unselfish  protests,  they  did  as  I 
bade  them.  I  was  left  alone  in  the  hall  with  the 
prisoner ;  soon  merry  voices  from  the  kitchen 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  71 

told  me  that  the  battle  was  being  fought  again 
over  the  wine.  I  set  the  lantern  close  to  the 
boy's  face. 

"  H'm,"  said  I,  after  a  prolonged  scrutiny. 
Then  I  sat  down  on  the  table,  and  began  to  hum 
softly  that  wretched  chant  of  One-eyed  Alexan- 
der's, which  had  a  terrible  trick  of  sticking  in  a 
man's  head. 

For  a  few  minutes  I  hummed.  The  lad  shiv- 
ered, stirred  uneasily,  and  opened  his  eyes.  I 
had  never  seen  such  eyes  ;  I  could  not  conscien- 
tiously except  even  Beatrice  Hipgrave's,  which 
were  in  their  way  quite  fine.  I  hummed  away  ; 
and  the  boy  said,  still  in  a  dreamy  voice,  but 
with  an  imploring  gesture  of  his  hand, — 

"  Ah,  no,  not  that !     Not  that,  Constantine  !  " 

"  He's  a  tender-hearted  youth,"  said  I,  and  I 
was  smiling  now.  The  whole  episode  was  singu- 
larly unusual  and  interesting. 

The  boy's  eyes  were  on  mine  again  ;  I  met  his 
glance,  full  and  square.  Then  I  poured  out  some 
water  and  gave  it  to  him.  He  took  it  with 
trembling  hand — the  hand  did  not  escape  my 
notice — and  drank  it  eagerly,  setting  the  glass 
down  with  a  sigh. 

"I  am  Lord  Wheatley,"  said  I,  nodding  to 
him.  "  You  came  to  steal  my  cattle,  and  murder 
me,  if  it  happened  to  be  convenient,  you  know." 

The  boy  flashed  out  at  me  in  a  minute. 


72  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

"I  didn't.  I  thought  you'd  surrender  if  we 
got  the  cattle  away." 

"  You  thought !  "  said  I  scornfully.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  did  as  you  were  bid." 

"  No ;  I  told  Constantine  that  they  weren't 

to "  The  boy  stopped  short,  looked  round 

him,  and  said  in  a  questioning  voice,  "  Where 
are  all  the  rest  of  my  people  ?  " 

"  The  rest  of  your  people,"  said  I,  "  have  run 
away,  and  you  are  in  my  hands.  And  I  can  do 
just  as  I  please  with  you." 

His  lips  set  in  an  obstinate  curve,  but  he  made 
no  answer.  I  went  on  as  sternly  as  I  could. 

"  And  when  I  think  of  what  I  saw  here  yester- 
day, of  that  poor  old  man  stabbed  by  your  blood- 
thirsty crew " 

"  It  was  an  accident,"  he  cried  sharply.  The 
voice  had  lost  its  dreaminess  and  sounded  clear 
now. 

"  We'll  see  about  that  when  we  get  Constan- 
tine and  Vlacho  before  a  judge,"  I  retorted 
grimly.  "  Anyhow,  he  was  foully  stabbed  in  his 
own  house,  for  doing  what  he  had  a  perfect  right 
to  do." 

"  He  had  no  right  to  sell  the  island,"  cried  the 
boy,  and  he  rose  for  a  moment  to  his  feet  with  a 
proud  air,  only  to  sink  back  into  the  chair  again 
and  stretch  out  his  hand  for  water. 

Now  at   this   moment    Denny,    refreshed   by 

> 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  73 

meat  and  drink  and  in  the  highest  of  spirits, 
bounded  into  the  hall. 

"  How's  the  prisoner?  "  he  cried. 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right.  There's  nothing  the  mat- 
ter with  him,"  I  said,  and  as  I  spoke  I  moved 
the  lantern,  so  that  the  boy's  face  and  figure 
were  again  in  shadow. 

"  That's  all  right,"  observed  Denny  cheerfully  ; 
"  Because  I  thought,  Charley,  we  might  get 
a  little  information  out  of  him." 

"  Perhaps  he  won't  speak,"  I  suggested,  cast- 
ing a  glance  at  the  captive,  who  sat  now  motion- 
less in  the  chair. 

"  Oh,  I  think  he  will,"  said  Denny  confidently  ; 
and  I  observed  for  the  first  time  that  he  held  a 
very  substantial-looking  whip  in  his  hand ;  he 
must  have  found  it  in  the  kitchen.  "  We'll  give 
the  young  ruffian  a  taste  of  this,  if  he's  obsti- 
nate," said  Denny,  and  I  cannot  say  that  his  tone 
witnessed  any  great  desire  that  the  boy  should 
prove  at  once  compliant. 

I  shifted  my  lantern  so  that  I  could  see  the 
proud  young  face,  while  Denny  could  not.  The 
boy's  eyes  met  mine  defiantly. 

"  Do  you  see  that  whip  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Will  you 
tell  us  all  we  want  to  know  ?  " 

The  boy  made  no  answer,  but  I  saw  trouble  in 
his  face,  and  his  eyes  did  not  meet  mine  so 
boldly  now. 


74  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  We'll  soon  find  a  tongue  for  him,"  said 
Denny,  in  cheerful  barbarity ;  "  upon  my  word, 
he  richly  deserves  a  thrashing.  Say  the  word, 
Charley  ! " 

"  We  haven't  asked  him  anything  yet,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  I'll  ask  him  something.  Look  here,  who 
was  the  fellow  with  you  and  Vlacho  ?  " 

Denny  spoke  in  English  ;  I  turned  his  question 
into  Greek.  But  the  prisoner's  eyes  told  me 
that  he  had  understood  before  I  spoke.  I  smiled 
again. 

The  boy  was  silent ;  defiance  and  fear  struggled 
in  the  dark  eyes. 

"You  see,  he's  an  obstinate  beggar,"  said 
Denny,  as  though  he  had  observed  all  necessary 
forms  and  could  now  get  to  business ;  and  he 
drew  the  lash  of  the  whip  through  his  fingers.  I 
am  afraid  Denny  was  rather  looking  forward  to 
executing  justice  with  his  own  hands. 

The  boy  rose  again  and  stood  facing  that 
heartless  young  ruffian  Denny — it  was  thus  that 
I  thought  of  Denny  at  the  moment ;  then  once 
again  he  sank  back  into  his  chair  and  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands. 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  go  out  killing  if  I  hadn't 
more  pluck  than  that,"  said  Denny  scornfully. 
"  You're  not  fit  for  the  trade,  my  lad." 

I  did  not  interpret  this  time ;  there  was  no 
need  ;  the  boy  certainly  understood.  But  he  had 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  75 

no  retort.  His  face  was  buried  in  those  slim 
hands  of  his.  For  a  moment  he  was  quite  still : 
then  he  moved  a  little  ;  it  was  a  movement  that 
spoke  of  helpless  pain,  and  I  heard  something 
very  like  a  stifled  sob. 

"  Just  leave  us  alone  a  little,  Denny,"  said  I. 
"  He  may  tell  me  what  he  won't  tell  you." 

"  Are  you  going  to  let  him  off  ? "  demanded 
Denny  suspiciously.  "  You  never  can  be  stiff  in 
the  back,  Charley." 

"  I  must  see  if  he  won't  speak  to  me  first,"  I 
pleaded  meekly. 

"  But  if  he  won't  ?  "  insisted  Denny. 

"  If  he  won't,"  said  I,  "  and  you  still  wish  it, 
you  may  do  what  you  like." 

Denny  sheered  off  to  the  kitchen,  with  an  air 
that  did  not  seek  to  conceal  his  opinion  of  my 
foolish  tender-heartedness.  Again  I  was  alone 
with  the  boy. 

"  My  friend  is  right,"  said  I  gravely.  "  You're 
not  fit  for  the  trade.  How  came  you  to  be  in 
it?" 

My  question  brought  a  new  look  as  the  boy's 
hands  dropped  from  his  face. 

"  How  came  you,"  said  I,  "  who  ought  to  re- 
strain these  rascals,  to  beat  their  head?  How 
came  you,  who  ought  to  shun  the  society  of 
men  like  Constantine  Stefanopoulos  and  his  tool 
Vlacho,  to  be  working  with  them  ?  " 


76  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

I  got  no  answer ;  only  a  frightened  look  ap- 
pealed to  me  in  the  white  glare  of  Hogvardt's 
lantern.  I  came  a  step  nearer  and  leaned  for- 
ward to  ask  my  next  question. 

"  Who  are  you  ?     What's  your  name?  " 

"  My  name — my  name?  "  stammered  the  pris- 
oner. "  I  won't  tell  my  name." 

"You'll  tell  me  nothing?  You  heard  what  I 
promised  my  friend  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  heard,"  said  the  lad,  with  a  face  utterly 
pale,  but  with  eyes  that  were  again  set  in  fierce 
determination. 

I  laughed  a  low  laugh. 

"  I  believe  you  are  fit  for  the  trade  after  all," 
said  I,  and  I  looked  at  him  with  mingled  distaste 
and  admiration.  But  I  had  my  last  weapon  still, 
my  last  question.  I  turned  the  lantern  full  on 
his  face,  I  leaned  forward  again,  and  I  said  in  dis- 
tinct, slow  tones — and  the  question  sounded  an 
absurd  one  to  be  spoken  in  such  an  impressive 
way,— 

"  Do  you  generally  wear — clothes  like  that?  " 

I  had  got  home  with  that  question.  The  pal- 
lour  vanished,  the  haughty  eyes  sank.  I  saw 
long  drooping  lashes  and  a  burning  flush,  and  the 
boy's  face  once  again  sought  his  hands. 

At  the  moment  I  heard  chairs  pushed  back  in 
the  kitchen.  In  came  Hogvardt  with  an  amused 
smile  on  his  broad  face  ;  in  came  Watkins  with 


A  Raid  and  a  Raider.  77 

his  impassive  acquiescence  in  anything  that  his 
lordship  might  order  ;  in  came  Master  Denny 
brandishing  his  whip  in  jovial  relentlessness. 

"Well,  has  he  told  you  anything?"  cried 
Denny.  It  was  plain  that  he  hoped  for  the  an- 
swer "  No." 

"  I  have  asked  him  half-a-dozen  questions," 
said  I,  "  and  he  has  not  answered  one." 

"All  right,"  said  Denny,  with  wonderful  em- 
phasis. 

Had  I  been  wrong  to  extort  this  much  punish- 
m  e  n  t  for  my  most  inhospitable  reception  ? 
Sometimes  now  I  think  that  I  was  cruel.  In 
that  night  much  had  occurred  to  breed  viciousness 
in  a  man  of  the  most  equable  temper.  But  the 
thing  had  now  gone  to  the  extreme  limit  to 
which  it  could  go,  and  I  said  to  Denny, — 

"  It's  a  gross  case  of  obstinacy,  of  course, 
Denny,  but  I  don't  see  very  well  how  we  can 
horsewhip  the  lady." 

A  sudden  astonished  cry,  "  The  lady  ! "  rang 
from  three  pairs  of  lips,  while  the  lady  herself 
dropped  her  head  on  the  table  and  fenced  her 
face  round  about  with  her  protecting  arms. 

"You  see,"  said  I,  "  this  lad  is  the  Lady  Eu- 
phrosyne." 

For  who  else  could  it  be  that  would  give  or- 
ders to  Constantine  Stefanopoulos,  and  ask 
where  "my  people"  were?  Who  else,  I  also 


78  Pfiroso  :  A  Romance. 

asked  myself,  save  the  daughter  of  the  noble 
house,  would  boast  the  air,  the  hands,  the  face, 
that  graced  our  young  prisoner?  And  who  else 
would  understand  English  ?  In  all  certainty 
here  was  the  Lady  Euphrosyne. 


CHAPTER  V. 
The  Cottage  on  the  Hill. 

THE  effect  of  my  remark  was  curious.  Denny 
flushed  scarlet  and  flung  his  whip  down  on  the 
table  ;  the  others  stood  for  a  moment  motionless, 
then  turned  tail  and  slunk  back  to  the  kitchen. 
Euphrosyne's  face  remained  invisible.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  felt  quite  at  my  ease.  I  had  a 
triumphant  conviction  of  the  importance  of  my 
capture,  and  a  determination  that  no  misplaced 
chivalry  should  rob  me  of  it.  Politeness  is,  no 
doubt,  a  duty,  but  only  a  relative  duty  ;  and,  in 
plain  English,  men's  lives  were  at  stake  here. 
Therefore  I  did  not  make  my  best  bow,  fling 
open  the  door,  and  tell  the  lady  that  she  was  free 
to  go  whither  she  would,  but  I  said  to  her  in  a 
dry,  severe  voice, — 

"  You  had  better  go,  madame,  to  the  room  you 
usually  occupy  here,  while  we  consider  what  to 
do  with  you.  You  know  where  the  room  is ;  I 
don't." 

She  raised  her  head,  and  said  in  tones  that 
sounded  almost  eager, — 


8o  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  My  own  room  ?     May  I  go  there  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  I.  "  I  shall  accompany  you 
as  far  as  the  door ;  and  when  you've  gone  in,  I 
shall  lock  the  door." 

This  programme  was  duly  carried  out,  Euphro- 
syne  not  favouring  me  with  a  word  during  its 
progress.  Then  I  returned  to  the  hall,  and  said 
to  Denny, — 

"  Rather  a  trump  card,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  they'll  be  back  pretty  soon  to  look 
for  her,  I  expect." 

Denny  accompanied  this  remark  with  such  a 
yawn  that  I  suggested  he  should  go  to  bed. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  bed  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'll  take  first  watch,"  said  I.  "  It's  nearly 
twelve  now.  I'll  wake  you  at  two,  and  you  can 
wake  Hogvardt  at  five  ;  then  Watkins  will  be  fit 
and  fresh  at  breakfast-time,  and  can  give  us  roast 
cow." 

Thus  I  was  again  left  alone ;  and  I  sat  review- 
ing the  position.  Would  the  islanders  fight  for 
their  Lady?  Or  would  they  let  us  go?  They 
would  only  let  us  go,  I  felt  sure,  if  Constantine 
were  out-voted,  for  he  could  not  afford  to  see  me 
leave  Neopalia  with  a  head  on  my  shoulders  and 
a  tongue  in  my  mouth.  Then,  probably,  they 
would  fight.  Well,  I  calculated  that,  as  long  as 
our  provisions  held  out,  we  could  not  be  stormed  ; 
our  stone  fortress  was  too  strong.  But  we  could 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill  81 

be  beleaguered  and  starved  out,  and  should  be 
very  soon  unless  the  lady's  influence  could  help 
us.  I  had  just  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  I 
would  talk  to  her  very  seriously  in  the  morning 
when  I  heard  a  remarkable  sound. 

"  There  never  was  such  a  place  for  queer 
noises,"  said  I,  pricking  up  my  ears. 

This  noise  seemed  to  come  directly  from  above 
my  head  ;  it  sounded  as  though  a  light,  stealthy 
tread  were  passing  over  the  roof  of  the  hall  in 
which  I  sat.  The  only  person  in  the  house 
besides  ourselves  was  the  prisoner  :  she  had  been 
securely  locked  in  her  room  ;  how  then  could  she 
be  on  the  top  of  the  hall  ?  For  her  room  was  in 
the  turret  above  the  doorway.  Yet  the  steps 
crept  over  my  head,  going  towards  the  kitchen. 
I  snatched  up  my  revolver  and  trod,  with  a 
stealth  equal  to  the  stealth  of  the  steps  overhead, 
across  the  hall  and  into  the  kitchen  beyond. 
My  three  companions  slept  the  sleep  of  tired 
men,  but  I  roused  Denny  ruthlessly. 

"  Go  on  guard  in  the  hall,"  said  I.  "  I  want 
to  have  a  look  round." 

Denny  was  sleepy  but  obedient.  I  saw  him 
start  for  the  hall,  and  went  on  till  I  reached  the 
compound  behind  the  house. 

Here  I  stood  deep  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall ; 
the  steps  were  now  over  my  head  again.  I 
glanced  up  cautiously,  and  above  me,  on  the  roof, 


82  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

three  yards  to  the  left,  I  saw  the  flutter  of  a  white 
kilt. 

"  There  are  more  ways  out  of  this  house  than 
I  know,"  I  thought  to  myself. 

I  heard  next  a  noise  as  though  of  something 
being  pushed  cautiously  along  the  flat  roof. 
Then  there  protruded  from  between  two  of  the 
battlements  the  end  of  a  ladder.  I  crouched 
closer  under  the  wall.  The  light  flight  of  steps 
was  let  down ;  it  reached  the  ground  ;  the  kilted 
figure  stepped  on  it  and  began  to  descend.  Here 
was  the  Lady  Euphrosyne  again.  Her  eager- 
ness to  go  to  her  own  room  was  fully  explained : 
there  was  a  way  from  it  across  the  house,  and 
out  on  to  the  roof  of  the  kitchen ;  the  ladder 
showed  that  the  way  was  kept  in  use.  I  stood 
still.  She  reached  the  ground,  and,  as  she 
touched  it  she  gave  the  softest  possible  little  laugh 
of  gleeful  triumph :  a  pretty  little  laugh  it  was. 
Then  she  walked  briskly  across  the  compound  till 
she  reached  the  rocks  on  the  other  side.  I  crept 
forward  after  her,  for  I  was  afraid  of  losing  sight 
of  her  in  the  darkness,  and  yet  did  not  desire  to 
arrest  her  progress  till  I  saw  where  she  was  going. 
On  she  went,  skirting  the  perpendicular  drop  of 
rock.  I  was  behind  her  now.  At  last  she  came 
to  the  angle  formed  by  the  rock  running  north 
and  that  which,  turning  to  the  east,  enclosed  the 
compound. 


-•-/,• 

;• 

The  Cottage  on  the  HilL  83 

"How's  she  going  to  get  up?"  I  asked  my- 
self. 

But  up  she  began  to  go,  her  right  foot  on  the 
north  rock,  her  left  on  the  east.  She  ascended 
with  such  confidence  that  it  was  evident  that 
steps  were  ready  for  her  feet.  She  gained  the 
top ;  I  began  to  mount  in  the  same  fashion, 
finding  the  steps  cut  in  the  face  of  the  cliff. 
I  reached  the  top  and  saw  her  standing  still,  ten 
yards  ahead  of  me.  She  went  on  ;  I  followed ; 
she  stopped,  looked,  saw  me,  screamed.  I  rushed 
on  her.  Her  arm  dealt  a  blow  at  me  ;  I  caught 
her  hand,  and  in  her  hand  there  was  a  little 
dagger.  Seizing  her  other  hand,  I  held  her  fast. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  ?  "  I  asked  in  a  mat- 
ter-of-fact tone,  taking  no  notice  of  her  hasty 
resort  to  the  dagger.  No  doubt  that  was  merely 
a  national  trait. 

Seeing  that  she  was  caught,  she  made  no  at- 
tempt to  struggle. 

"  I  was  trying  to  escape,"  she  said.  "  Did  you 
hear  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  heard  you.  Where  were  you  going 
to?" 

"  Why  should  I  tell  you  ?  Shall  you  threaten 
me  with  the  whip  again  ?  " 

I  loosed  her  hands.  She  gave  a  sudden  glance 
up  the  hill.  She  seemed  to  measure  the  dis- 
tance. 


84  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  go  to  the  top  of  the 
hill  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Have  you  friends  there  ?  " 

She  denied  the  suggestion,  as  I  thought  she 
would. 

"  No,  I  have  not.  But  anywhere  is  better 
than  with  you." 

"  Yet  there's  some  one  in  the  cottage  up 
there,"  I  observed.  "  It  belongs  to  Constantine, 
doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  she  answered  defiantly.  "  Dare 
you  go  and  seek  him  there  ?  Or  dare  you  only 
skulk  behind  the  walls  of  the  house  ?  " 

"  As  long  as  we  are  four  against  a  hundred  I  dare 
only  skulk,"  I  answered.  She  did  not  annoy  me  at 
all  by  her  taunts.  "  But  do  you  think  he's  there  ?  " 

"There!  No;  he's  in  the  town;  and  he'll 
come  from  the  town  to  kill  you  to-morrow." 

"  Then  is  nobody  there  ?  "  I  pursued. 

"  Nobody,"  she  answered. 

"  You're  wrong,"  said  I.  "  I  saw  somebody 
there  to-day." 

"  Oh,  a  peasant  perhaps," 

"  Well,  the  dress  didn't  look  like  it.  Do  you 
really  want  to  go  there  now  ?  " 

"Haven't  you  mocked  me  enough?"  she 
burst  out.  "  Take  me  back  to  my  prison." 

Her  tragedy-air  was  quite  delightful.  But  I 
had  been  leading  her  up  to  something  which  I 
thought  she  ought  to  know. 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill.  85 

"  There's  a  woman  in  that  cottage,"  said  I. 
"  Not  a  peasant ;  a  woman  in  some  dark-coloured 
dress,  who  uses  opera-glasses." 

I  saw  her  draw  back  with  a  start  of  surprise. 

"  It's  false,"  she  cried.  "  There's  no  one  there. 
Constantine  told  me  no  one  went  there  except 
Vlacho  and  sometimes  Demetri." 

"  Do  you  believe  all  Constantine  tells  you  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Why  should  I  not  ?    He's  my  cousin,  and " 

"And  your  suitor?" 

She  flung  her  head  back  proudly. 

"  I  have  no  shame  in  that,"  she  answered. 

"  You  would  accept  his  offer  ?  " 

"  Since  you  ask,  I  will  answer.  Yes.  I  had 
promised  my  uncle  that  I  would." 

"  Good  God  !  "  said  I,  for  I  was  very  sorry  for 
her. 

The  emphasis  of  my  exclamation  seemed  to 
startle  her  afresh.  I  felt  her  glance  rest  on  me 
in  puzzled  questioning. 

"  Did  Constantine  let  you  see  the  old  woman 
whom  I  sent  to  him  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  No,"  she  murmured.  "He  told  me  what  she 
said." 

"  That  I  told  him  he  was  his  uncle's  murderer?  " 

"  Did  you  tell  her  to  say  that  ?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  sudden  inclination  of  her  body  towards 
me. 


86  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  did.     Did  he  give  you  the  message  ?  " 

She  made  no  answer.  I  pressed  my  advan- 
tage. 

"  On  my  honour,  I  saw  what  I  have  told  you 
at  the  cottage,"  I  said.  "  I  know  what  it  means 
no  more  than  you  do.  But  before  I  came  here, 
I  saw  Constantine  in  London.  And  there  I 
heard  a  lady  say  she  would  come  with  him.  Did 
any  lady  come  with  him  ?  " 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  she  asked  ;  but  I  could  hear 
her  breathing  quickly,  and  I  knew  that  her  scorn 
was  assumed.  I  drew  suddenly  away  from  her, 
and  put  my  hands  behind  my  back. 

"  Go  to  the  cottage  if  you  like,"  said  I.  "  But 
I  won't  answer  for  what  you'll  find  there." 

"  You  set  me  free  ?  "  she  cried  with  eagerness. 

"  Free  to  go  to  the  cottage  ;  you  must  promise 
to  come  back.  Or  I'll  go  to  the  cottage,  if  you'll 
promise  to  go  back  to  your  room  and  wait  till  I 
return." 

She  hesitated,  looking  again  towards  where  the 
cottage  was  ;  but  I  had  stirred  suspicion  and  dis- 
quietude in  her.  She  dared  not  face  what  she 
might  find  in  the  cottage. 

"  I'll  go  back  and  wait  for  you,"  she  said.  "  If 

I  went  to  the  cottage  and and  all  was  well 

I'm  afraid  I  shouldn't  come  back." 

The  tone  sounded  softer.  I  would  have  sworn 
that  a  smile  or  a  half-smile  accompanied  the 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill.  87 

words,  but  it  was  too  dark  to  be  sure,  and  when 
I  leaned  forward  to  look,  Euphrosyne  drew  back. 

"  Then  you  mustn't  go,"  said  I  decisively;  "  I 
can't  afford  to  lose  you. 

"  But  if  you  let  me  go,  I  could  let  you  go," 
she  cried. 

"Could  you?  Without  asking  Constantine? 
Besides,  it's  my  island,  you  see." 

"  It's  not,"  she  cried,  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot. 
And  without  more  she  walked  straight  by  me 
and  disappeared  over  the  ledge  of  rock.  Two 
minutes  later  I  saw  her  figure  defined  against  the 
sky,  a  black  shadow  on  the  deep  grey  ground  ; 
then  she  disappeared.  I  set  my  face  straight  for 
the  cottage  under  the  summit  of  the  hill.  I 
knew  that  I  had  only  to  go  straight  and  I  must 
come  to  the  little  plateau,  scooped  out  of  the 
hillside,  on  which  the  cottage  stood.  I  found, 
not  a  path,  but  a  sort  of  rough  track  that  led  in 
the  desired  direction,  and  along  this  I  made  my 
way  very  cautiously.  At  one  point  it  was  joined 
at  right  angles  by  another  track,  from  the  side  of 
the  hill  where  the  main  road  across  the  island 
lay.  This,  of  course,  afforded  an  approach  to  the 
cottage  without  passing  by  my  house.  In  twenty 
minutes  the  cottage  loomed,  a  blurred  mass,  be- 
fore me.  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  peered  at  it. 

There  was  a  light  in  one  of  the  windows.  I 
crawled  nearer.  Now  I  was  on  the  plateau,  a 


88  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

moment  later  I  was  under  the  wooden  verandah 
and  beneath  the  window  where  the  light  glowed. 
My  hand  was  on  my  revolver ;  if  Constantine  or 
Vlacho  caught  me  here,  neither  side  would  be 
able  to  stand  on  trifles ;  even  my  desire  for  legal- 
ity would  fail  under  the  strain.  But  for  the  min- 
ute everything  was  quiet,  and  I  began  to  fear 
that  I  should  have  to  return  empty-handed  ;  for 
it  would  be  growing  light  in  another  hour  or  so, 
and  I  must  be  gone  before  the  day  began  to  ap- 
pear. Ah,  there  was  a  sound — a  sound  that  ap- 
pealed to  me  after  my  climb — the  sound  of  wine 
poured  into  a  glass ;  then  came  a  voice  I  knew. 

"Probably  they  have  caught  her,"  said  Vlacho 
the  innkeeper.  "  What  of  that  ?  They  will  not 
hurt  her,  and  she'll  be  kept  safe." 

"  You  mean  she  can't  come  spying  about  here  ?  " 

"  Exactly.  And  that,  my  Lord,  is  an  advan- 
tage. If  she  came  here " 

"Oh,  the  deuce  !"  laughed  Constantine.  "But 
won't  the  men  want  me  to  free  her  by  letting  that 
infernal  crew  go  ?  " 

"Not  if  they  think  Wheatley  will  go  to 
Rhodes  and  get  soldiers  and  return.  They  love 
the  island  more  than  her.  It  will  all  go  well,  my 
Lord.  And  this  other  here  ?  " 

I  strained  my  ears  to  listen.  No  answer  came, 
yet  Vlacho  went  on  as  though  he  had  received 
an  answer. 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill.  89 

"  These  cursed  fellows  make  that  difficult,  too," 
he  said.  "  It  would  be  an  epidemic."  He 
laughed,  seeming  to  see  wit  in  his  own  remark. 

"  Curse  them,  yes.  We  must  move  cautiously," 
said  Constantine.  "  What  a  nuisance  women 
are,  Vlacho." 

"  Aye,  too  many  of  them,"  laughed  Vlacho. 

"  I  had  to  swear  my  life  out  that  no  one  was 
here,  and  then,  '  If  no  one's  there,  why  mayn't  I 
come  ?  '  You  know  the  sort  of  thing." 

"  Indeed,  no,  my  Lord.  You  wrong  me,"  pro- 
tested Vlacho  humorously,  and  Constantine 
joined  in  his  laugh. 

"  You've  made  up  your  mind  which,  I  gather?  " 
asked  Vlacho. 

"  Oh,  this  one,  beyond  doubt,"  answered  his 
master. 

Now  I  thought  that  I  understood  most  of  this 
conversation,  and  I  was  very  sorry  that  Euphro- 
syne  was  not  by  my  side  to  listen  to  it.  But  I 
had  heard  about  enough  for  my  purposes,  and  I 
had  turned  to  crawl  away  stealthily — it  is  not 
well  to  try  fortune  too  far — when  I  heard  the 
sound  of  a  door  opening  in  the  house.  Constan- 
tine's  voice  followed  directly  on  the  sound. 

"  Ah,  my  darling,  my  sweet  wife,"  he  cried,  "  not 
sleeping  yet?  Where  will  your  beauty  be?  Vlacho 
and  I  must  work  and  plan  for  your  sake,  but  you 
need  not  spoil  your  eyes  with  sleeplessness." 


; 


90  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

Constantine  did  it  uncommonly  well.  His 
manner  was  a  pattern  for  husbands.  I  was  guilty 
of  a  quiet  laugh  all  to  myself  in  the  verandah. 

"  For  me?  You're  sure  it's  for  me  ?  "  came  in 
that  Greek  with  a  strange  accent,  which  had  first 
fallen  on  my  ears  in  the  Optimum  restaurant. 

"  She's  jealous,  she's  most  charmingly  jealous !  " 
cried  Constantine  in  playful  rapture.  "  Does 
your  wife  pay  you  such  compliments,  Vlacho  ?  " 

"  She  has  no  cause,  my  Lord.  But  my  Lady 
Francesca  thinks  she  has  cause  to  be  jealous  of 
the  Lady  Euphrosyne." 

Constantine  laughed  scornfully  at  the  sugges- 
tion. 

"  Where  is  she  now  ?  "  came  swift  and  sharp 
from  the  woman.  "  Where  is  Euphrosyne  ?  " 

"  Why,  she's  a  prisoner  to  that  Englishman," 
answered  Constantine. 

I  suppose  explanations  passed  at  this  point, 
for  the  voices  fell  to  a  lower  level,  as  is  apt  to 
happen  in  the  telling  of  a  long  story,  and  I  could 
not  catch  what  was  said  till  Constantine's  tones 
rose  again  as  he  remarked, — 

"  Oh,  yes ;  we  must  have  a  try  at  getting  her 
out,  just  to  satisfy  the  people.  For  me,  she 
might  stay  there  as  long  as  she  likes,  for  I  care 
for  her  just  as  little  as,  between  ourselves,  I  be- 
lieve she  cares  for  me." 

Really  this  fellow  was  a  very  tidy  villain  ;  as  a 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill.  91 

pair,  Vlacho  and  he  would  be  hard  to  beat — in 
England,  at  all  events.  About  Neopalia  I  had 
learned  to  reserve  my  opinion.  Such  were  my 
reflections  as  I  turned  to  resume  my  interrupted 
crawl  to  safety.  But  in  an  instant  I  was  still 
again — still,  and  crouching  close  under  the  wall, 
motionless  as  an  insect  that  feigns  death,  holding 
my  breath,  my  hand  on  the  trigger.  For  the 
door  of  the  cottage  was  flung  open,  and  Constan- 
tine  and  Vlacho  appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  Ah,"  said  Vlacho,  "  dawn  is  near.  See,  it 
grows  lighter  on  the  horizon." 

A  more  serious  matter  was  that,  owing  to  the 
open  door  and  the  lamp  inside,  it  had  grown 
lighter  on  the  verandah,  so  light  that  I  saw  the 
three  figures — for  the  woman  had  come  also — in 
the  doorway,  so  light  that  my  huddled  shape 
would  be  seen  if  any  of  the  three  turned  an  eye 
towards  it.  I  could  have  picked  off  both  men 
before  they  could  move ;  but  a  civilised  educa- 
tion has  drawbacks  ;  it  makes  a  man  scrupulous ; 
I  did  not  fire.  I  lay  still,  hoping  that  I  should 
not  be  noticed.  And  I  should  not  have  been 
noticed  but  for  one  thing.  Acting  up  to  his  part 
in  the  ghastly  farce  which  these  two  ruffians 
were  playing  with  the  wife  of  one  of  them,  Con- 
stantine  turned  to  bestow  kisses  on  the  woman 
before  he  parted  from  her.  Vlacho,  in  a  mock- 
ery that  was  horrible  to  me  who  knew  his  heart, 


92  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

must  needs  be  facetious.  With  a  laugh  he  drew 
back ;  he  drew  back  farther  still ;  he  was  but  a 
couple  of  feet  from  the  wall  of  the  house,  and 
that  couple  of  feet  I  filled.  In  a  moment,  with 
one  step  backwards,  he  would  be  upon  me. 
Perhaps  he  would  not  have  made  that  step ;  per- 
haps I  should  have  gone,  by  grace  of  that  narrow 
interval,  undetected.  But  the  temptation  was 
too  strong  for  me.  The  thought  of  the  thing 
threatened  to  make  me  laugh.  I  had  a  penknife 
in  my  pocket.  I  opened  it,  and  I  dug  it  hard 
into  that  portion  of  Vlacho's  frame  which  came 
most  conveniently  and  prominently  to  my  hand. 
Then,  leaving  the  penknife  where  it  was,  I  leaped 
up,  gave  the  howling  ruffian  a  mighty  shove,  and 
with  a  loud  laugh  of  triumph  bolted  for  my  life 
down  the  hill.  But  when  I  had  gone  twenty 
yards  I  dropped  on  my  knees,  for  bullet  after 
bullet  whistled  over  my  head.  Constantine — the 
outraged  Vlacho  too,  perhaps — carried  a  re- 
volver !  Their  barrels  were  being  emptied  after 
me.  I  rose  and  turned  one  hasty  glance  behind 
me.  Yes,  I  saw  their  dim  shapes  like  moving 
trees.  I  fired  once,  twice,  thrice,  in  my  turn, 
and  then  went  crashing  and  rushing  down  the 
path  that  I  had  ascended  so  cautiously.  I  can- 
noned against  the  tree  trunks ;  I  tripped  over 
trailing  branches  ;  I  stumbled  over  stones.  Once 
I  paused  and  fired  the  rest  of  my  barrels.  A  yell 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill.  93 

told  me  I  had  hit — but  Vlacho,  alas,  not  Con- 
stantine  ;  I  knew  the  voice.  At  the  same  instant 
my  fire  was  returned,  and  a  bullet  went  through 
my  hat.  I  was  defenceless  now,  save  for  my 
heels,  and  to  them  I  took  again  with  all  speed. 
But  as  I  crashed  along,  one  at  least  of  them  came 
crashing  after  me  !  Yes,  it  was  only  one  !  I  had 
checked  Vlacho's  career.  It  was  Constantine 
alone.  I  suppose  one  of  your  heroes  of  romance 
would  have  stopped  and  faced  him,  for  with  them 
it  is  not  etiquette  to  run  away  from  one  man. 
Ah,  well,  I  ran  away.  For  all  I  knew,  Constan- 
tine might  still  have  a  shot  in  the  locker ;  I  had 
none.  And  if  Constantine  killed  me,  he  would 
kill  the  only  man  who  knew  all  his  secrets.  So  I 
ran.  And  just  as  I  got  within  ten  yards  of  the 
drop  into  my  own  territory,  I  heard  a  wild  cry : 
"  Charley  !  Charley  !  Where  the  devil  are  you, 
Charley  ?  " 

"  Why,  here,  of  course,"  said  I,  coming  to  the 
top  of  the  bank  and  dropping  over. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  it  was  the  cry  uttered  by 
Denny  which  gave  pause  to  Constantine's  pur- 
suit. He  would  not  desire  to  face  all  four  of  us. 
At  any  rate  the  sound  of  his  pursuing  feet  died 
away  and  ceased.  I  suppose  he  went  back  to 
look  after  Vlacho  and  show  himself  safe  and 
sound  to  that  most  unhappy  woman,  his  wife. 
As  for  me,  when  I  found  myself  safe  and  sound 


94  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

in  the  compound,  I  said  "  Thank  God  !  "  And  I 
meant  it,  too.  Then  I  looked  round.  Certainly 
the  sight  that  met  my  eyes  had  a  touch  of  com- 
edy in  it. 

Denny,  Hogvardt,  and  Watkins  stood  in  the 
compound.  Their  backs  were  towards  me,  and 
they  were  all  staring  up  at  the  roof  of  the 
kitchen,  with  expressions  which  the  cold  light  of 
morning  revealed  in  all  their  puzzled  foolishness. 
And  on  the  top  of  the  roof,  unassailable  and  out 
of  reach — for  no  ladder  ran  from  roof  to  ground 
now — stood  Euphrosyne,  in  her  usual  attitude  of 
easy  grace.  Euphrosyne  was  not  taking  the 
smallest  notice  of  the  helpless  three  below,  but 
stood  quite  still  with  unmoved  face,  gazing  up 
towards  the  cottage.  The  whole  thing  reminded 
me  of  nothing  so  much  as  of  a  pretty  composed 
cat  in  a  tree,  with  three  infuriated  helpless  terriers 
barking  round  the  trunk.  I  began  to  laugh. 

"What's  all  the  shindy?"  called  out  Denny. 
"  Who's  doing  revolver-practice  in  the  wood  ? 
And  how  the  dickens  did  she  get  there,  Charley  ?  " 

But  when  the  still  figure  on  the  roof  saw  me,  the 
impassivity  of  it  vanished.  Euphrosyne  leaned 
forward,  clasping  her  hands,  and  said  to  me, — 

"  Have  you  killed  him  ?  " 

The  question  vexed  me.  It  would  have  been 
civil  to  accompany  it,  at  all  events,  with  an  in- 
quiry as  to  my  own  health. 


The  Cottage  on  the  Hill. 


95 


"  Killed  him  ?  "  I  answered  gruffly.  "  No,  he's 
sound  enough." 

"  And "  she  began  ;  but  now  she  glanced, 

seemingly  for  the  first  time,  at  my  friends  below. 
"You  must  come  and  tell  me,"  she  said,  and 
with  that  she  turned  and  disappeared  from  our 
gaze  behind  the  battlements.  I  listened  intently. 
No  sound  came  from  the  wood  that  rose  grey  in 
the  new  light  behind  us. 

"What  have  you  been  doing?"  demanded 
Denny  surlily  ;  he  had  not  enjoyed  Euphrosyne's 
scornful  attitude. 

"  I  have  been  running  for  my  life,"  said  I, 
"  from  the  biggest  scoundrels  unhanged.  Denny, 
make  a  guess  who  lives  in  that  cottage." 

"  Constantine  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mean  him." 

"  Not  Vlacho— he's  at  the  inn." 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  Vlacho." 

"Who  then,  man?" 

"Some  one  you've  seen." 

"  Oh,  I  give  it  up.  It's  not  the  time  of  day 
for  riddles." 

"The  lady  who  dined  at  the  next  table  to 
ours  at  the  Optimum,"  said  I. 

Denny  jumped  back  in  amazement,  with  a  long 
low  whistle. 

"  What,  the  one  who  was  with  Constantine  ?  " 
he  cried. 


96  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "the  one  who  was  with  Con- 
stantine." 

They  were  all  three  round  me  now  ;  and,  think- 
ing that  it  would  be  better  that  they  should 
know  what  I  knew,  and  four  lives  instead  of  one 
stand  between  a  ruffian  and  the  impunity  he 
hoped  for,  I  raised  my  voice  and  went  on  in  an 
emphatic  tone, — 

"  Yes.     She's  there,  and  she's  his  wife." 

A  moment's  astonished  silence  greeted  my 
announcement.  It  was  broken  by  none  of  our 
party.  But  there  came  from  the  battlemented 
roof  above  us  a  low,  long,  mournful  moan  that 
made  its  way  straight  to  the  heart,  armed  with 
its  dart  of  outraged  pride  and  trust  betrayed.  It 
was  not  thus,  boldly  and  abruptly,  that  I  should 
have  told  my  news.  But  I  did  not  know  that 
Euphrosyne  was  still  above  us,  hidden  by  the 
battlements.  We  all  looked  up.  The  moan  was 
not  repeated.  Presently  we  heard  slow  steps  re- 
treating with  a  faltering  tread  across  the  roof ; 
and  we  also  went  into  the  house  in  silence  and 
sorrow.  For  a  thing  like  that  gets  hold  of  a 
man ;  and  when  he  has  heard  it,  it  is  hard  for 
him  to  sit  down  and  be  merry,  until  the  fellow 
that  caused  it  has  paid  his  reckoning.  I  swore 
then  and  there  that  Constantine  Stefanopoulos 
should  pay  his. 


CHAPTER  VL 
The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander. 

THERE  is  a  matter  on  my  conscience  which  I 
cannot  excuse,  but  may  as  well  confess.  To  de- 
ceive a  maiden  is  a  very  sore  thing,  so  sore  that 
it  had  made  us  all  hot  against  Constantine  ;  but  it 
may  be  doubted  by  a  cool  mind  whether  it  is 
worse — nay,  whether  it  is  not  more  venial — than 
to  contrive  the  murder  of  a  lawful  wife.  Poets 
have  paid  more  attention  to  the  first  offence 
— maybe  they  know  more  about  it;  the  law 
finds  greater  employment,  on  the  whole,  in  re- 
spect to  the  second.  For  me,  I  admit  that  it 
was  not  till  I  found  myself  stretched  on  a  mat- 
tress in  the  kitchen,  with  the  idea  of  getting  a 
few  hours'  sleep,  that  it  struck  me  that  Constan- 
tine's  wife  deserved  a  share  of  my  concern  and 
care.  Her  grievance  against  him  was  at  least  as 
great  as  Euphrosyne's;  her  peril  was  far  greater. 
For  Euphrosyne  was  his  object ;  Francesca  (for 
that  appeared  from  Vlacho's  mode  of  address  to 
be  her  name)  was  an  obstacle  which  prevented 
him  attaining  that  object.  For  myself  I  should 


98  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

have  welcomed  a  cut  throat  if  it  came  as  an  al- 
ternative to  Constantine's  society  ;  but  probably 
his  wife  would  not  agree  with  me,  and  the  con- 
versation I  had  heard  left  me  in  little  doubt  that 
her  life  was  not  safe.  They  could  not  have  an 
epidemic,  Vlacho  had  prudently  reminded  his 
master ;  the  island  fever  could  not  kill  Constan- 
tine's wife  and  our  party  all  in  a  day  or  two. 
Men  suspect  -such  an  obliging  malady,  and  the 
old  Lord  had  died  of  it,  pat  to  the  happy  mo- 
ment, already !  But  if  the  thing  could  be  done, 
if  it  could  be  so  managed  that  London,  Paris, 
and  the  Riviera  would  find  nothing  strange  in 
the  disappearance  of  one  Madame  Stefanopoulos 
and  the  appearance  of  another,  why,  to  a  cer- 
tainty, done  the  thing  would  be,  unless  I  could 
warn  or  save  the  woman  in  the  cottage.  But  I 
did  not  see  how  to  do  either.  So  (as  I  set  out  to 
confess)  I  dropped  the  subject.  And  when  I 
went  to  sleep,  I  was  thinking,  not  how  to  save 
Francesca,  but  how  to  console  Euphrosyne, — a 
matter  really  of  less  urgency,  as  I  should  have 
seen  had  not  the  echo  of  that  sad  little  cry  still 
filled  my  ears. 

The  news  which  Hogvardt  brought  me  when  I 
rose  in  the  morning  and  was  enjoying  a  slice  of 
cow  steak  by  no  means  cleared  my  way.  An 
actual  attack  did  not  seem  imminent, — I  fancy 
these  fierce  islanders  were  not  too  fond  of  our  re- 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.         99 

volvers,— but  the  house  was,  if  I  may  use  the 
term,  carefully  picketed,  and  that  both  before 
and  behind.  Along  the  road  which  approached 
it  in  front  there  stood  sentries  at  intervals.  They 
were  stationed  just  out  of  range  of  our  only 
effective  long-distance  weapon,  but  it  was  evi- 
dent that  egress  on  that  side  was  barred  ;  and  the 
same  was  the  case  on  the  other.  Hogvardt  had 
seen  men  moving  in  the  wood,  and  had  heard 
their  challenges  to  one  another  repeated  at  regu- 
lar intervals.  We  were  shut  off  from  the  sea; 
we  were  shut  off  from  the  cottage.  A  blockade 
would  reduce  us  as  surely  as  an  attack.  I  had 
nothing  to  offer  except  the  release  of  Euphrosyne. 
And  to  release  Euphrosyne  would,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, not  save  us,  while  it  would  leave  Constan- 
tine  free  to  play  out  his  relentless  game  to  its 
appointed  end. 

I  finished  my  breakfast  in  some  perplexity  of 
spirit.  Then  I  went  and  sat  in  the  hall,  expect- 
ing that  Euphrosyne  would  appear  from  her 
room  before  long.  I  was  alone,  for  the  rest  were 
engaged  in  various  occupations,  Hogvardt  being 
particularly  busy  over  a  large  handful  of  hunt- 
ing-knives which  he  had  gleaned  from  the  walls. 
I  did  not  understand  what  he  wanted  with  them, 
unless  he  meant  to  arm  himself  in  porcupine 
fashion. 

Presently  Euphrosyne  came,  but  it  was  a  trans- 


zoo  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

formed  Euphrosyne.  The  kilt,  knee-breeches, 
and  gaiters  were  gone;  in  their  place  was  the 
white  linen  garment  with  flowing  sleeves  and  the 
loose  jacket  over  it,  the  national  dress  of  the 
Greek  woman;  but  Euphrosyne's  was  orna- 
mented with  a  rare  profusion  of  delicate  em- 
broidery, and  of  so  fine  a  texture  that  it  seemed 
rather  some  delicate,  soft,  yielding  silk.  The 
change  of  attire  seemed  reflected  in  her  altered 
manner.  Defiance  was  gone,  and  appeal  glistened 
from  her  eyes  as  she  stood  before  me.  I  sprang 
up,  but  she  would  not  sit.  She  stood  there,  and, 
raising  her  glance  to  my  face,  asked  simply, — 

"Is  it  true?" 

In  a  business-like  way  I  told  her  the  whole 
story,  starting  from  the  every-day  scene  at  home 
in  the  restaurant,  ending  with  the  villainous  con- 
versation and  the  wild  chase  of  the  night  before. 
When  I  related  how  Constantine  had  called 
Francesca  his  wife,  Euphrosyne  started.  While 
I  lightly  sketched  my  encounter  with  him  and 
Vlacho,  she  eyed  me  with  a  sort  of  grave  curi- 
osity ;  and  at  the  end  she  said, — 

"  I'm  glad  you  weren't  killed." 

It  was  not  an  emotional  speech,  nor  delivered 
with  any  empressement,  but  I  took  it  for  thanks 
and  made  the  best  of  it.  Then  at  last  she  sat 
down  and  rested  her  head  on  her  hand  ;  her 
absent  reverie  allowed  me  to  study  her  closely, 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander*        101 

and  I  was  struck  by  a  new  beauty  which  the  fan- 
tastic boy's  disguise  had  concealed.  Moreover, 
with  the  doffing  of  that,  she  seemed  to  have  put 
off  her  extreme  hostility  ;  but  perhaps  the  revela- 
tion I  had  made  to  her,  which  showed  her  the 
victim  of  an  unscrupulous  schemer,  had  more 
to  do  with  her  softened  air.  Yet  she  had  borne 
the  story  firmly,  and  a  quivering  lip  was  her 
extreme  sign  of  grief  or  anger.  And  her  first 
question  was  not  of  herself. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  they  will  kill  this  woman  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  not  unlikely  that  something 

will  happen  to  her,  unless,  of  course "  I 

paused,  but  her  quick  wit  supplied  the  omission. 

"Unless,"  she  said,  "he  lets  her  live  now, 
because  I  am  out  of  his  hands?" 

"Will  you  stay  out  of  his  hands?"  I  asked. 
"  I  mean,  as  long  as  I  can  keep  you  out  of  them." 

She  looked  round  with  a  troubled  expression. 

"  How  can  I  stay  here  ?  "  she  said  in  a  low 
tone. 

"  You  will  be  as  safe  here  now  as  you  were  in 
your  uncle's  care,"  I  answered. 

She  acknowledged  my  promise  with  a  move- 
ment of  her  head  ;  but  a  moment  later  she  cried : 

"  But  I  am  not  with  you — I  am  with  the  peo- 
ple !  The  island  is  theirs  and  mine.  It's  not 
yours.  I'll  have  no  part  in  giving  it  to  you." 


102  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  wasn't  proposing  to  take  pay  for  my  hospi- 
tality," said  I.  "  It'll  be  hardly  handsome  enough 
for  that,  I'm  afraid.  But  mightn't  we  leave  the 
question  for  the  moment?"  And  I  described 
briefly  to  her  our  present  position. 

"  So  that,"  I  concluded,  "  while  I  maintain 
my  claim  to  the  island,  I  am  at  present  more  in- 
terested in  keeping  a  whole  skin  on  myself  and 
my  friends." 

"  If  you  will  not  give  it  up,  I  can  do  nothing," 
said  she.  "  Though  they  knew  Constantine  to  be 
all  you  say,  yet  they  would  follow  him  and  not 
me  if  I  yielded  the  island.  Indeed  they  would 
most  likely  follow  him  in  any  case ;  for  the  Neo- 
palians  like  a  man  to  follow,  and  they  like  that 
man  to  be  a  Stefanopoulos ;  so  they  would  shut 
their  eyes  to  much,  in  order  that  Constantine 
might  marry  me  and  become  Lord." 

She  stated  all  this  in  a  matter-of-fact  way,  dis- 
closing no  great  horror  of  her  countrymen's 
moral  standard.  The  straightforward  barbarous- 
ness  of  it  perhaps  appealed  to  her  a  little ;  she 
loathed  the  man  who  would  rule  on  those  terms, 
but  had  some  toleration  for  the  people  who  set 
the  true  dynasty  above  all  else.  And  she  spoke 
of  her  proposed  marriage  as  though  it  were  a 
natural  arrangement. 

"  I  shall  have  to  marry  him,  I  expect,  in  spite 
of  everything,"  she  said. 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.        103 

I  pushed  my  chair  back  violently.  My  Eng- 
lish respectability  was  appalled. 

"  Marry  him  ?  "  I  cried.  "  Why,  he  murdered 
the  old  Lord  !  " 

"  That  has  happened  before  among  the  Stefan- 
opouloi,"  said  Euphrosyne,  with  a  calmness  dan- 
gerously near  to  pride. 

"  And  he  proposes  to  murder  his  wife,"  I 
added. 

"  Perhaps  he  will  get  rid  of  her  without  that." 
She  paused  ;  then  came  the  anger  I  had  looked 
for  before.  "  Ah,  but  how  dared  he  swear  that 
he  had  thought  of  none  but  me,  and  loved  me 
passionately  ?  He  shall  pay  for  that !  "  Again 
it  was  injured  pride  which  rang  in  her  voice,  as 
in  her  first  cry.  It  did  not  sound  like  love ;  and 
for  that  I  was  glad.  The  courtship  probably  had 
been  an  affair  of  state  rather  than  of  affection. 
I  did  not  ask  how  Constantine  was  to  be  made 
to  pay,  whether  before  or  after  marriage.  I  was 
struggling  between  horror  and  amusement  at  my 
guest's  point  of  view.  But  I  take  leave  to  have 
a  will  of  my  own,  even,  sometimes,  in  matters 
which  are  not  exactly  my  concern  ;  and  I  said 
now,  with  a  composure  that  rivalled  Euphro- 
syne's, — 

"  It's  out  of  the  question  that  you  should 
marry  him.  I'm  going  to  get  him  hanged  ;  and, 
anyhow,  it  would  be  atrocious." 


104  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

She  smiled  at  that ;  but  then  she  leaned  for- 
ward and  asked, — 

"  How  long  have  you  provisions  for?" 

"  That's  a  good  retort,"  I  admitted.  "  A  few 
days,  that's  all.  And  we  can't  get  out  to  pro- 
cure  any  more  ;  and  we  can't  go  shooting,  be- 
cause the  wood's  invested  with  these  ruff 1 

beg  pardon — with  your  countrymen." 

"  Then  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Euphrosyne,  "  that 
you  and  your  friends  are  more  likely  to  be 
hanged." 

Well,  on  a  dispassionate  consideration,  it  did 
seem  more  likely  ;  but  she  need  not  have  said  so. 
She  went  on  with  an  equally  discouraging  good 
sense, — 

"  There  will  be  a  boat  from  Rhodes  in  about  a 
month  or  six  weeks.  The  officer  will  come  then 
to  take  the  tribute  ;  perhaps  the  Governor  will 
come.  But  till  then  nobody  will  visit  the  island, 
unless  it  be  a  few  fishermen  from  Cyprus." 

"  Fishermen  ?  Where  do  they  land  ?  At  the 
harbour?  " 

"  No,  my  people  do  not  like  them ;  but  the 
Governor  threatens  to  send  troops  if  we  do  not 
let  them  land.  So  they  come  to  a  little  creek  at 
the  opposite  end  of  the  island,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  mountain.  Ah,  what  are  you  thinking 
of?" 

As  Euphrosyne  perceived,  her  words  had  put 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander,        105 

a  new  idea  in  my  mind.  If  I  could  reach  that 
creek  and  find  the  fishermen,  and  persuade  them 
to  help  me  or  to  carry  my  party  off,  that  hang- 
ing might  happen  to  the  right  man  after  all. 

"  You're  thinking  you  can  reach  them  ?  "  she 
cried. 

"  You  don't  seem  sure  that  you  want  me  to," 
I  observed. 

"  Oh,  how  can  I  tell  what  I  want  ?  If  I  help 
you  I  am  betraying  the  island.  If  I  do  not 

"  You'll  have  a  death  or  two  at  your  door,  and 
you'll  marry  the  biggest  scoundrel  in  Europe," 
said  I. 

She  hung  her  head  and  plucked  fretfully  at 
the  embroidery  on  the  front  of  her  gown. 

"  But  anyhow  you  couldn't  reach  them,"  she 
said.  "You  are  close  prisoners  here." 

That,  again,  seemed  true,  so  that  it  put  me  in 
a  very  bad  temper.  Therefore  I  rose  and,  leav- 
ing her  without  much  ceremony,  strolled  into 
the  kitchen.  Here  I  found  Watkins  dressing 
the  cow's  head,  Hogvardt  surrounded  by  knives, 
and  Denny  lying  on  a  rug  on  the  floor  with  a 
small  book  which  he  seemed  to  be  reading.  He 
looked  up  with  a  smile  that  he  considered  knowing. 

"  Well,  what  does  the  Captive  Queen  say  ?  " 
he  asked  with  levity. 

"  She  proposes  to  marry  Constantine,"  I  an- 
swered, and  added  quickly  to  Hogvardt, — 


106  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"What's  the  game  with  those  knives,  Hog?" 

"  Well,  my  lord,"  said  Hogvardt,  surveying 
his  dozen  murderous  instruments,  "  I  thought 
there  was  no  harm  in  putting  an  edge  on  them, 
in  case  we  should  find  a  use  for  them,"  and  he 
fell  to  grinding  one  with  great  energy. 

"  I  say,  Charley,"  cried  Denny,  "  I  wonder 
what  this  yarn's  about.  I  can't  construe  half  of 
it.  It's  in  Greek,  and  it's  something  about  Neo- 
palia;  and  there's  a  lot  about  a  Stefanopoulos." 

"  Is  there?  Let's  see," — and,  taking  the  book, 
I  sat  down  to  look  at  it.  It  was  a  slim  old  book, 
bound  in  calfskin.  The  Greek  was  written  in  an 
old-fashioned  style ;  it  was  verse.  I  turned  to 
the  title-page.  "  Hullo,  this  is  rather  interest- 
ing," I  exclaimed.  "  It's  about  the  death  of  old 
Stefanopoulos — the  thing  they  sing  that  song 
about,  you  know." 

In  fact  I  had  got  hold  of  the  poem  which  One- 
eyed  Alexander  composed.  Its  length  was  about 
three  hundred  lines,  exclusive  of  the  refrain  which 
the  islanders  had  chanted,  and  which  was  inserted 
six  times,  occurring  at  the  end  of  each  fifty  lines. 
The  rest  was  written  in  rather  barbarous  iambics  ; 
and  the  sentiments  were  quite  as  barbarous  as 
the  verse.  It  told  the  whole  story,  and  I  ran 
rapidly  over  it,  translating  here  and  there  for  the 
benefit  of  my  companions.  The  arrival  of  the 
Baron  d'Ezonville  recalled  our  own  with  curious 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.       107 

exactness,  except  that  he  came  with  one  servant 
only.  He  had  been  taken  to  the  inn  as  I  had, 
but  he  had  never  escaped  from  there,  and  had 
been  turned  adrift  the  morning  after  his  arrival.  I 
took  more  interest  in  Stefan,  and  followed  eagerly 
the  story  of  how  the  islanders  had  come  to  his 
house  and  demanded  that  he  should  revoke  the 
sale.  Stefan,  however,  was  obstinate  ;  it  cost  the 
lives  of  four  of  his  assailants  before  his  door  was 
forced.  Thus  far  I  read,  and  expected  to  find 
next  an  account  of  a  melee  in  the  hall.  But  here 
the  story  took  a  turn  unexpected  by  me, — one 
that  might  make  the  reading  of  the  old  poem 
more  than  a  mere  pastime. 

"  But  when  they  had  broken  in,"  sang  One- 
eyed  Alexander,  "  behold  the  hall  was  empty, 
and  the  house  empty  !  And  they  stood  amazed. 
But  the  two  cousins  of  the  Lord,  who  had  been 
the  hottest  in  seeking  his  death,  put  all  the  rest 
to  the  door,  and  were  themselves  alone  in  the 
house  ;  for  the  secret  was  known  to  them  who 
were  of  the  blood  of  the  Stefanopouloi.  Unto 
me,  the  Bard,  it  is  not  known.  Yet  men  say 
they  went  beneath  the  earth,  and  there  in  the 
earth  found  the  Lord.  And  certain  it  is  they 
slew  him,  for  in  a  space  they  came  forth  to  the 
door,  bearing  his  head ;  this  they  showed  to  the 
people,  who  answered  with  a  great  shout.  But 
the  cousins  went  back,  barring  the  door  again ; 


io8  Phroso :  A  Romance* 

and  again,  when  but  a  few  minutes  had  passed, 
they  came  forth,  and  opened  the  door,  and  the 
elder  of  them,  being  now  by  the  traitor's  death 
become  Lord,  bade  the  people  in,  and  made  a 
great  feast  for  them.  But  the  head  of  Stefan 
none  saw  again,  nor  did  any  see  his  body  ;  but 
body  and  head  were  gone,  whither  none  know, 
saving  the  noble  blood  of  the  Stefanopouloi ;  for 
utterly  they  disappeared,  and  the  secret  was  se- 
curely kept." 

I  read  this  passage  aloud,  translating  as  I  went. 
At  the  end  Denny  drew  a  breath. 

"  Well,  if  there  aren't  ghosts  in  this  house 
there  ought  to  be,"  he  remarked.  "  What  the 
deuce  did  those  rascals  do  with  the  old  gentle- 
man, Charley  ?  " 

"  It  says  they  went  beneath  the  earth." 

"The  cellar,"  suggested  Hogvardt,  who  had  a 
prosaic  mind. 

"  But  they  wouldn't  leave  the  body  in  the 
cellar,"  I  objected ;  "  and  if,  as  this  fellow  says, 
they  were  only  away  a  few  minutes,  they  couldn't 
have  dug  a  grave  for  it.  And  then  it  says  that 
they  '  there  in  the  earth  found  the  Lord.' " 

"  It  would  have  been  more  interesting,"  said 
Denny,  "  if  they'd  told  Alexander  a  bit  more 
about  it.  However  I  suppose  he  consoles  him- 
self with  his  chant  again?" 

"  He   does.     It   follows  immediately  on  what 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.       109 

I've  read,  and  so  the  thing  ends."  And  I  sat 
looking  at  the  little  yellow  volume.  "Where 
did  you  find  it,  Denny  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  on  a  shelf  in  the  corner  of  the  hall,  be- 
tween the  Iliad  and  a  Life  of  Bryon.  There's 
precious  little  to  read  in  this  house." 

I  got  up  and  walked  back  to  the  hall.  I  looked 
round.  Euphrosyne  was  not  there.  I  inspected 
the  hall  door ;  it  was  still  locked  on  the  inside. 
I  mounted  the  stairs  and  called  at  the  door  of 
her  room  ;  when  no  answer  came,  I  pushed  it 
open  and  took  the  liberty  of  glancing  round ;  she 
was  not  there.  I  called  again,  for  I  thought  she 
might  have  passed  along  the  way  over  the  hall 
and  reached  the  roof,  as  she  had  before.  This 
time  I  called  loudly.  Silence  followed  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then  came  an  answer,  in  a  hurried,  rather 
apologetic  tone:  "Here  I  am."  But  then — the 
answer  came  not  from  the  direction  that  I  had 
expected,  but  from  the  hall,  and,  looking  over 
the  balustrade,  I  saw  Euphrosyne  sitting  in  the 
arm-chair. 

"  This,"  said  I,  going  downstairs,  "  taken  in 
conjunction  with  this  " — and  I  patted  One-eyed 
Alexander's  book,  which  I  held  in  my  hand — "  is 
certainly  curious  and  suggestive." 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  Euphrosyne,  with  an  air 
that  added,  "  I've  not  moved.  What  are  you 
shouting  for?  " 


no  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Yes,  but  you  weren't  there  a  minute  ago,"  I 
observed,  reaching  the  hall  and  walking  across 
to  her. 

She  looked  disturbed  and  embarrassed. 

"Where  have  you  been  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Must  I  give  an  account  of  every  movement  ?  " 
said  she,  trying  to  cover  her  confusion  with  a 
show  of  haughty  offence. 

The  coincidence  was  really  a  remarkable  one ; 
it  was  as  hard  to  account  for  Euphrosyne's  dis- 
appearance and  reappearance  as  for  the  vanished 
head  and  body  of  old  Stefan.  I  had  a  convic- 
tion, based  on  a  sudden  intuition,  that  one  expla- 
nation must  lie  at  the  root  of  both  these  curious 
things  ;  that  the  secret  of  which  Alexander  spoke 
was  a  secret  still  hidden, — hidden  from  my  eyes, 
but  known  to  the  girl  before  me,  the  daughter  of 
the  Stefanopouloi. 

"  I  won't  ask  you  where  you've  been,  if  you 
don't  wish  to  tell  me,"  said  I  carelessly. 

She  bowed  her  head  in  recognition  of  my  in- 
dulgence. 

"  But  there  is  one  question  I  should  like  to 
ask  you,"  I  pursued,  "  if  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to 
answer  it." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  She  was  still  on  the  de- 
fensive. 

"  Where  was  Stefan  Stefanopoulos  killed,  and 
what  became  of  his  body  ?  " 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.       in 

As  I  put  my  question  I  flung  One-eyed  Alex- 
ander's book  open  on  the  table  beside  her. 

She  started  visibly,  crying,  "  Where  did  you 
get  that  ?  " 

I  told  her  how  Denny  had  found  it,  and  I 
added, — 

"  Now,  what  does  '  beneath  the  £arth '  mean  ? 
You're  one  of  the  house  and  you  must  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  I  must  not  tell  you.  We  are 
all  bound  by  the  most  sacred  oath  to  tell  no  one." 

"  Who  told  you  ?  " 

"  My  uncle.  The  boys  of  our  house  are  told 
when  they  are  fifteen  ;  the  girls,  when  they  are 
sixteen.  No  one  else  knows." 

"  Why  is  that  ?  " 

She  hesitated,  fearing,  perhaps,  that  her  an- 
swer itself  would  tend  to  betray  the  secret. 

"I  dare  tell  you  nothing,"  she  said.  "The 
oath  binds  me  ;  and  it  binds  every  one  of  my 
kindred  to  kill  me  if  I  break  it." 

"  But  you've  no  kindred  left  except  Constan- 
tine,"  I  objected. 

"  He  is  enough.     He  would  kill  me." 

"  Sooner  than  marry  you  ?  "  I  suggested  rather 
maliciously. 

"Yes,  if  I  broke  the  oath." 

"  Hang  the  oath  !  "  said  I  impatiently.  "  The 
thing  might  help  us.  Did  they  bury  Stefan 
somewhere  under  the  house?  " 


ii2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  No,  he  was  not  buried,"  she  answered. 

"Then  they  brought  him  up  and  got  rid  of 
his  body  when  the  islanders  had  gone  ?  " 

"  You  must  think  what  you  will." 

"  I'll  find  it  out,"  said  I.  "  If  I  pull  the  house 
down,  I'll  find  it.  Is  it  a  secret  door  or ?  " 

She  had  coloured  at  the  question.  I  put  the 
latter  part  in  a  low  eager  voice,  for  hope  had 
come  to  me. 

"  Is  it  a  way  out  ? "  I  asked,  leaning  over  to 
her. 

She  sat  mute,  but  irresolute,  embarrassed  and 
fretful. 

"  Heavens,"  I  cried  impatiently,  "  it  may  mean 
life  or  death  to  all  of  us,  and  you  boggle  over 
your  oath ! " 

My  rude  impatience  met  with  a  rebuke  that  it 
perhaps  deserved.  With  a  glance  of  the  utmost 
scorn,  Euphrosyne  asked  coldly, — 

"  What  are  the  lives  of  all  of  you  to  me?" 

"True,  I  forgot,"  said  I,  with  a  bitter  politeness. 
"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  did  you  all  the  service  I 

could  last  night,  and  now 1  and  my  friends 

may  as  well  die  as  live  !  But,  by  God,  I'll  pull 
this  place  to  ruins,  but  I'll  find  your  secret." 

I  was  walking  up  and  down  now  in  a  state  of 
some  excitement.  My  brain  was  fired  with  the 
thought  of  stealing  a  march  on  Constantine 
through  the  discovery  of  his  own  family  secret. 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.       113 

Suddenly  Euphrosyne  gave  a  little  soft  clap 
with  her  hands.  It  was  over  in  a  minute,  and 
she  sat  blushing,  confused,  trying  to  look  as  if 
she  had  not  moved  at  all. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for  ?  "  I  asked,  stop- 
ping in  front  of  her. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Euphrosyne. 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  that,"  said  I. 

She  looked  at  me.  "  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it," 
she  said.  "  But  can't  you  guess  why  ?  " 

"  There's  too  much  guessing  to  be  done  here," 
said  I  impatiently ;  and  I  started  walking  again. 
But  presently  I  heard  a  voice  say  softly,  and  in 
a  tone  that  seemed  to  address  nobody  in  partic- 
ular— me  least  of  all,— 

"  We  Neopalians  like  a  man  who  can  be  angry, 
and  I  began  to  think  you  never  would  be." 

"  I  am  not  the  least  angry,"  said  I  with  great 
indignation.  I  hate  being  told  that  I  am  angry 
when  I  am  merely  showing  firmness. 

Now  at  this  protest  of  mine  Euphrosyne  saw 
fit  to  laugh — the  most  hearty  laugh  she  had 
given  since  I  had  known  her.  The  mirthfulness 
of  it  undermined  my  wrath.  I  stood  still  oppo- 
site her,  bitting  the  end  of  my  moustache. 

"You  may  laugh,"  said  I,  "but  I'm  not  an- 
gry ;  and  I  shall  pull  this  house  down,  or  dig  it 
up,  in  cold  blood, — in  perfectly  cold  blood." 

"You  are  angry,"  said  Euphrosyne,  "  and  you 


ii4  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

say  you're  not.  You  are  like  my  father.  He 
would  stamp  his  foot  furiously  like  that,  and  say, 
'  I  am  not  angry,  I  am  not  angry,  Phroso.' " 

Phroso !  I  had  forgotten  that  diminutive  of 
my  guest's  classical  name.  It  rather  pleased  me, 
and  I  repeated  gently  after  her,  "  Phroso, 
Phroso ! "  and  I'm  afraid  I  eyed  the  little  foot 
that  had  stamped  so  bravely. 

"  He  always  called  me  Phroso.  Oh,  I  wish  he 
were  alive  !  Then  Constantine " 

"Since  he  isn't,"  said  I,  sitting  on  the  table  by 
Phroso  (I  must  write  it,  it's  a  deal  shorter) — by 
Phroso's  elbow,  "  since  he  isn't,  I'll  look  after 
Constantine.  It  would  be  a  pity  to  spoil  the 
house,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  I've  sworn,"  said  Phroso. 

"  Circumstances  alter  oaths,"  said  I,  bending 
till  I  was  very  near  Phroso's  ear. 

"  Ah,"  said  Phroso  reproachfully,  "  that's  what 
lovers  say  when  they  find  another  more  beautiful 
than  their  old  love." 

I  shot  away  from  Phroso's  ear  with  a  sudden 
backward  start.  Her  remark  somehow  came 
home  to  me  with  a  very  remarkable  force.  I  got 
off  the  table,  and  stood  opposite  to  her  in  an 
awkward  and  stiff  attitude. 

"  I  am  compelled  to  ask  you,  for  the  last  time, 
if  you  will  tell  me  the  secret?"  said  I  in  the 
coldest  of  tones. 


The  Poem  of  One-Eyed  Alexander.       115 

She  looked  up  with  surprise  :  my  altered  man- 
ner may  well  have  amazed  her.  She  did  not 
know  the  reason  of  it. 

"You  asked  me  kindly  and — and  pleasantly, 
and  I  would  not.  Now  you  ask  me  as  if  you 
threatened,"  she  said.  "  Is  it  likely  I  should  tell 
you  now?  " 

Well,  I  was  angry  with  myself  and  with  her 
because  she  had  made  me  angry  with  myself ; 
and  the  next  minute  I  became  furiously  angry 
with  Denny,  whom  I  found  standing  in  the  door- 
way that  led  to  the  kitchen,  with  a  smile  of 
intense  amusement  on  his  face. 

"  What  are  you  grinning  at  ? "  I  demanded 
fiercely. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Denny,  and  his  face 
strove  to  assume  a  prudent  gravity. 

"  Bring  a  pickaxe,"  said  I. 

Denny's  eyes  wandered  towards  Phroso.  "  Is 
she  as  annoying  as  that  ? "  he  seemed  to  ask. 
"  A  pickaxe  ?  "  he  repeated,  in  surprised  tones. 

"Yes,  two  pickaxes!  I'm  going  to  have  this 
floor  up,  and  see  if  I  can  find  out  the  great  Ste- 
fanopoulos  secret."  I  spoke  with  an  accent  of 
intense  scorn. 

Again  Phroso  laughed ;  her  hands  beat  very 
softly  against  one  another.  Heavens,  what  did 
she  do  that  for,  when  Denny  was  there,  watch- 
ing everything  with  those  shrewd  eyes  of  his? 


n6  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  The  pickaxes !  "  I  roared. 

Denny  turned  and  fled  ;  a  moment  elapsed.  I 
did  not  know  what  to  do,  how  to  look  at  Phroso, 
or  how  not  to  look  at  her.  I  took  refuge  in 
flight.  I  rushed  into  the  kitchen,  on  pretence  of 
aiding  or  hastening  Denny's  search.  I  found 
him  taking  up  an  old  pick  that  stood  near  the 
door  leading  to  the  compound.  I  seized  it  from 
his  hand. 

"  Confound  you  !  "  I  cried,  for  Denny  laughed 
openly  at  me ;  and  I  rushed  back  to  the  hall. 
But  on  the  threshold  I  paused,  and  said  what  I 
will  not  write. 

For,  though  there  came  from  somewhere  the 
ripple  of  a  mirthful  laugh,  the  hall  was  empty  ! 
Phroso  was  gone !  I  flung  the  pickaxe  down 
with  a  clatter  on  the  boards,  and  exclaimed  in 
my  haste, — 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  I'd  never  bought  the 
island ! " 

But  I  did  not  really  mean  that. 


CHAPTER  VIL 
The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi* 

WAS  this  a.  pantomime  ?  For  a  moment  I 
declared  angrily  that  it  was  no  better ;  but  the 
next  instant  changed  the  current  of  my  feelings, 
transforming  irritation  into  alarm  and  perplexity 
into  the  strongest  excitement.  For  Phroso's 
laugh  ended — ended  as  a  laugh  ends  that  is  sud- 
denly cut  short  in  its  career  of  mirth — and  there 
was  a  second  of  absolute  stillness.  Then  from 
the  front  of  the  house,  and  from  the  back,  came 
the  sharp  sound  of  shots, — three  in  rapid  succes- 
sion in  front,  four  behind.  Denny  rushed  out 
from  the  kitchen,  rifle  in  hand. 

"  They're  at  us  on  both  sides  !  "  he  cried,  leap- 
ing to  his  perch  at  the  window  and  cautiously 
peering  round.  "  Hogvardt  and  Watkins  are 
ready  at  the  back;  they're  firing  from  the 
wood,"  he  went  on.  Then  he  fired.  "  Missed, 
confound  it!  "  he  muttered.  "Well,  they  don't 
come  any  nearer,  I'll  see  to  that." 

Denny  was  a  sure  defence  in  front.  I  turned 
towards  the  kitchen,  for  more  shots  came  from 


[ 

^ 


n8  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

that  direction,  and  although  it  was  difficult  to  do 
worse  than  harass  us  from  there,— our  perpen- 
dicular bank  of  rock  being  a  difficult  obstacle  to 
pass  in  face  of  revolver-fire, — I  wanted  to  see 
that  all  was  well  and  to  make  the  best  disposition 
against  this  unexpected  onset.  Yet  I  did  not 
reach  the  kitchen  ;  half-way  to  the  door  which 
led  to  it  I  was  arrested  by  a  cry  of  distress. 
Phroso's  laugh  had  gone,  but  the  voice  was  still 
hers.  "Help!"  she  cried,  "  Help  !  "  Then 
came  a  chuckle  from  Denny  at  the  window,  and 
a  triumphant  "  Winged  him,  by  Jove  !  "  And 
then  from  Phroso  again,  "Help!"— and  at  last 
an  enlightening  word,  "  Help  !  Under  the  stair- 
case !  Help !  " 

At  this  summons  I  left  my  friends  to  sustain 
the  attack,  or  the  feigned  attack ;  for  I  began  to 
suspect  that  it  was  no  more  than  a  diversion,  and 
that  the  real  centre  of  operations  was  "  under 
the  staircase " ;  thither  I  ran.  The  stairs  rose 
from  the  centre  of  the  right  side  of  the  hall,  and 
led  up  to  the  gallery ;  they  rose  steeply,  and  a 
man  could  stand  upright  up  to  within  four  feet 
of  the  spot  where  the  staircase  sprang  from  the 
level  floor.  I  was  there  now ;  and  under  me  I 
heard  no  longer  voices,  but  a  kind  of  scuffle. 
The  pick  was  in  my  hand,  and  I  struck  savagely 
again  and  again  at  the  board  ;  for  I  did  not  doubt 
now  that  there  was  a  trap-door,  and  I  was  in  no 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          119 

mind  to  spend  my  time  seeking  for  its  cunning 
machinery.  And  yet,  where  knowledge  failed, 
chance  came  to  my  help  ;  at  the  fifth  or  sixth 
blow  I  must  have  happened  on  the  spring,  for 
the  boards  yawned,  leaving  a  space  of  about 
three  inches.  Dropping  the  pick,  I  fell  on  my 
knees  and  seized  the  edge  nearest  me.  With  all 
my  strength  I  tugged  and  pulled.  My  violence 
was  of  no  avail,  the  boards  moved  no  more.  Im- 
patient, yet  sobered,  I  sought  eagerly  for  the 
spring  which  my  pick  had  found.  Ah,  here  it 
was !  It  answered  now  to  a  touch  as  light  as 
Phroso's  own.  At  the  slightest  pressure  the 
boards  rolled  away,  seeming  to  curl  themselves 
up  under  the  base  of  the  staircase ;  and  there 
was  revealed  to  me  an  aperture  four  feet  long  by 
three  broad ;  beneath  lay  a  flight  of  stone  steps. 
I  seized  my  pick  again,  and  took  a  step  down- 
wards. I  heard  nothing  except  the  noise  of  re- 
treating feet.  I  went  on.  Down  six  steps  I 
went,  then  the  steps  ended,  and  I  was  on  an 
incline.  At  that  moment  I  heard  again,  only  a 
few  yards  from  me,  "  Help  !  "  I  sprang  forward. 
A  loud  curse  rang  out,  and  a  shot  whistled  by 
me.  The  open  trap-door  gave  a  glimmer  of  light. 
I  was  in  a  narrow  passage,  and  a  man  was  coming 
at  me.  I  did  not  know  where  Phroso  was,  but  I 
took  th'e  risk.  I  fired  straight  at  him,  having 
shifted  my  pick  to  the  left  hand.  The  aim  was 


i2o  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

true;  he  fell  prone  on  his  face  before  me.  I 
jumped  on  and  over  his  body,  and  ran  along  the 
dark  passage ;  for  I  still  heard  retreating  steps. 
But  then  came  a  voice  I  knew,  the  voice  of 
Vlacho  the  innkeeper.  "  Then  stay  where  you 
are,  curse  you  !  "  he  cried  savagely.  There  was 
a  thud,  as  though  some  one  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground,  a  cry  of  pain,  and  then  the  rapid  running 
of  feet  that  fled  now  at  full  pace  and  unencum- 
bered. Vlacho  the  innkeeper  had  heard  my  shot, 
and  had  no  stomach  for  fighting  in  that  rat-run, 
with  a  girl  in  his  arms  to  boot !  And  I,  pursu- 
ing, was  brought  up  short  by  the  body  of  Phroso, 
which  lay,  white  and  plain  to  see,  across  the  nar- 
row passage. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?  "  I  cried  eagerly. 

"  He  flung  me  down  violently,"  she  answered. 
"  But  I'm  not  hurt  otherwise." 

"Then  I'll  go  after  him,"  I  cried. 

"  No,  no,  you  mustn't.  You  don't  know  the 
way,  you  don't  know  the  dangers  ;  there  may  be 
more  of  them  at  the  other  end." 

"  True,"  said  I.     "  What  happened  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  came  down  to  hide  from  you,  you 
know.  But  directly  I  reached  the  foot  of  the 
steps  Vlacho  seized  me.  He  was  crouching  there 
with  Spiro — you  know  Spiro.  And  they  said, 
'  Ah,  she  has  saved  us  the  trouble ! '  and  began 
to  drag  me  away.  But  I  would  not  go,  and  I 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          121 

called  to  you.  I  twisted  my  feet  round  Vlacho, 
so  that  he  couldn't  go  fast ;  then  he  told  Spiro 
to  catch  hold  of  me,  and  they  were  just  carrying 
me  off  when  you  came.  Vlacho  kept  hold  of  me 
while  Spiro  went  to  meet  you  and ' 

"It  seems,"  I  interrupted,  "that  Constantine 
was  less  scrupulous  about  that  oath  than  you 
were.  Or  how  did  Vlacho  and  Spiro  come  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  must  have  told  them,"  she  admitted 
reluctantly. 

"  Well,  come  along,  come  back  ;  I'm  wanted," 
said  I ;  and  (without  asking  leave,  I  fear)  I  caught 
her  up  in  my  arms  and  began  to  run  back.  I 
jumped  again  over  Spiro — friend  Spiro  had  not 
moved — and  regained  the  hall. 

"  Stay  there,  under  the  stairs  ;  you're  sheltered 
there,"  I  said  hastily  to  Phroso.  Then  I  called 
to  Denny,  "What  cheer,  Denny?"  Denny 
turned  round  with  a  radiant  smile.  I  don't  think 
he  had  even  noticed  my  absence. 

"  Prime,"  said  he.  "  This  is  a  rare  gun  of  old 
Constantine's  ;  it  carries  a  good  thirty  yards 
farther  than  any  they've  got,  and  I  can  pick  'em 
off  before  they  get  dangerous.  I've  got  one  and 
winged  another,  and  the  rest  have  retired  a  little 
way  to  talk  it  over." 

Seeing  that  things  were  all  right  in  that  quar- 
ter I  ran  into  the  kitchen.  It  was  well  that  I  did 
so.  We  were  indeed  in  no  danger;  from  that 


122  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

side,  at  all  events,J:he  attack  was  evidently  no 
more  than  a  feint.  There  was  desultory  firing 
from  a  safe  distance  in  the  wood.  I  reckoned 
there  must  be  four  or  five  men  hidden  behind 
trees  and  emerging  every  now  and  then  to  pay 
us  a  compliment.  But  they  had  not  attempted  a 
rush.  The  mischief  was  quite  different,  being 
just  this,  that  Watkins,  who  was  not  well  in- 
structed in  the  range  of  firearms,  was  cheerfully 
emptying  his  revolver  into  space,  and  wasting 
our  precious  cartridges  at  the  rate  of  about  two 
a  minute.  He  was  so  magnificently  happy  that 
it  went  to  my  heart  to  stop  him,  but  I  was  com- 
pelled to  seize  his  arm  and  command  him  very 
peremptorily  to  wait  till  there  was  something  to 
fire  at. 

"  I  thought  I'd  show  them  that  we  were  ready 
for  them,  my  lord,"  said  he  apologetically. 

I  turned  impatiently  to  Hogvardt. 

"  Why  did  you  let  him  make  a  fool  of  himself 
like  that?"  I  asked. 

"  He  would  miss,  anyhow,  wherever  the  men 
were,"  observed  Hogvardt  philosophically. 
"  And,"  he  continued,  "  I  was  busy  myself." 

"  What  were  you  doing  ?  "  I  asked  in  a  scorn- 
ful tone. 

Hogvardt  made  no  answer  in  words  ;  but  he 
pointed  proudly  to  the  table.  There  I  saw  a  row 
of  five  long  and  strong  saplings  ;  to  the  head  of 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi,          123 

each  of  these  most  serviceable  lances  there  was 
bound  strongly,  with  thick  wire  wound  round 
again  and  again,  a  long,  keen,  bright  knife. 

"  I  think  these  may  be  useful,"  said  Hogvardt, 
rubbing  his  hands,  and  rising  from  his  seat  with 
the  sigh  of  a  man  who  had  done  a  good  morn- 
ing's work. 

"  The  cartridges  would  have  been  more  useful 
still,"  said  I  severely. 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted,  "  if  you  would  have  taken 
them  away  from  Watkins.  But  you  know  you 
wouldn't,  my  lord.  You'd  be  afraid  of  hurting 
his  feelings.  So  he  might  just  as  well  amuse 
himself  while  I  made  the  lances." 

I  have  known  Hogvardt  for  a  long  while,  and 
I  never  argue  with  him.  The  mischief  was  done  ; 
the  cartridges  were  gone  ;  we  had  the  lances  ;  it 
was  no  use  wasting  more  words  over  it.  I 
shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"  Your  lordship  will  find  the  lances  very  use- 
ful," said  Hogvardt,  fingering  one  of  them  most 
lovingly. 

The  attack  was  dying  away  now  in  both  front 
and  rear.  My  impression  was  amply  confirmed. 
It  had  been  no  more  than  a  device  for  occupying 
our  attention  while  those  two  daring  rascals, 
Vlacho  and  Spiro,  armed  with  the  knowledge  of 
the  secret  way,  made  a  sudden  dash  upon  us, 
either  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  shot  at  our  backs 


124  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

and  finding  shelter  again  before  we  could  retali- 
ate, or  with  the  design  of  carrying  off  Phroso. 
Her  jest  had  forestalled  the  former  idea,  if  it  had 
been  in  their  minds,  and  they  had  then  endea- 
voured to  carry  out  the  latter.  Indeed  I  found 
afterwards  that  it  was  the  latter  on  which  Con- 
stantine  laid  most  stress,  for  a  deputation  of  the 
islanders  had  come  to  him,  proposing  that  he 
should  make  terms  with  me  as  a  means  of  releas- 
ing their  Lady.  Now,  since  last  night,  Constan- 
tine,  for  reasons  which  he  could  not  disclose  to 
the  deputation,  was  absolutely  precluded  from 
treating  with  me ;  he  was  therefore  driven  to 
make  an  attempt  to  get  Phroso  out  of  my  hands, 
in  order  to  satisfy  her  people.  This  enterprise 
I  had  happily  frustrated  for  the  moment.  But 
my  mind  was  far  from  easy.  Provisions  would 
soon  begone;  ammunition  was  scanty;  against 
an  attack  by  day  our  strong  position,  aided  by 
Denny's  coolness  and  marksmanship,  seemed  to 
protect  us  very  effectually ;  but  I  could  feel  no 
confidence  as  to  the  result  of  a  grand  assault 
under  the  protecting  shadow  of  night.  And  now 
that  Constantine's  hand  was  being  forced  by 
the  islanders'  anxiety  for  Phroso,  I  was  afraid 
that  he  would  not  wait  long  before  attempting 
a  decisive  stroke. 

"  I    wish   we   were    well    out    of   it,"    said    I 
despondently,  as  I  wiped  my  brow. 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          125 

All  was  quiet.  Watkins  appeared  with  bread, 
cheese,  and  wine. 

"Your  lordship  would  not  wish  to  use  the  cow 
at  luncheon  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  passed  me  on  his 
way  to  the  hall. 

"  Certainly  not,  Watkins,"  I  answered,  smiling. 
"  We  must  save  the  cow." 

"  There  is  still  a  goat,  but  she  is  a  poor  thin 
creature,  my  lord." 

"We  shall  come  to  her  in  time,  Watkins,"  said 
I. 

But  if  I  were  depressed,  the  other  three  were 
very  merry  over  their  meal.  Danger  was  an  idea 
which  found  no  hospitality  in  Denny's  brain; 
Hogvardt  was  as  cool  a  hand  as  the  world  held; 
Watkins  could  not  believe  that  Providence  would 
deal  unkindly  with  a  man  of  my  rank.  They 
toasted  our  recent  success,  and  listened  with  en- 
grossed interest  to  my  account  of  the  secret  of 
the  Stefanopouloi.  Phroso  sat  a  little  apart,  say- 
ing nothing,  but  at  last  I  turned  to  her  and  asked : 
"Where  does  the  passage  lead  to?  " 

She  answered  readily  enough ;  the  secret  was 
out  through  Constantine's  fault,  not  hers,  and 
the  seal  was  removed  from  her  lips. 

"  If  you  follow  it  to  the  end,  it  comes  out  in 
a  little  cave  in  the  rocks  on  the  sea-shore,  near 
the  creek  where  the  Cypriote  fishermen  come." 

"  Ah,"  I  cried,  "  it  might  help  us  to  get  there  !  " 


i26  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

She  shook  her  head,  answering, — 

"  Constantine  is  sure  to  have  that  end  strongly 
guarded  now,  because  he  knows  that  you  have 
the  secret." 

"  We  might  force  our  way." 

"  There  is  no  room  for  more  than  one  man  to 
go  at  a  time  ;  and  besides She  paused. 

"  Well,  what  besides  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  It  would  be  certain  death  to  try  to  go  in  the 
face  of  an  enemy,"  she  answered. 

Denny  broke  in  at  this  point. 

"  By  the  way,  what  of  the  fellow  you  shot  ? 
Are  we  going  to  leave  him  there,  or  must  we  get 
him  up?" 

Spiro  had  been  in  my  mind  ;  and  now  I  said  to 
Phroso, — 

"  What  did  they  do  with  the  body  of  Stefan 
Stefanopoulos?  There  was  not  time  for  them 
to  have  taken  it  to  the  end  of  the  way,  was 
there?  " 

"No,  they  didn't  take  it  to  the  end  of  the 
way,"  said  she.  "  I  will  show  you  if  you  like. 
Bring  a  torch  ;  you  must  keep  behind  me,  and 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  path." 

I  accepted  her  invitation  eagerly,  telling  Denny 
to  keep  guard.  He  was  very  anxious  to  accom- 
pany us,  but  another  and  more  serious  attack 
might  be  in  store,  and  I  would  not  trust  the 
house  to  Hogvardt  and  Watkins  alone.  So  I 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          127 

took  a  lantern  in  lieu  of  a  torch  and  prepared  to 
follow.  At  the  last  moment  Hogvardt  thrust 
into  my  hand  one  of  his  lances. 

"It  will  very  likely  be  useful,"  said  he.  "A 
thing  like  that  is  always  useful." 

I  would  not  disappoint  him,  and  I  took  the 
lance.  Phroso  signed  to  me  to  give  her  the 
lantern,  and  preceded  me  down  the  flight  of 
stairs. 

"  We  shall  be  in  earshot  of  the  hall  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  for  as  far  as  we  are  going,"  she  answered, 
and  she  led  the  way  into  the  passage.  I  prayed 
her  to  let  me  go  first,  for  it  was  just  possible 
that  some  of  Constantine's  ruffians  might  still 
be  there. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  she  said.  "  He  would  tell 
as  few  as  possible.  You  see,  we  have  always 
kept  the  secret  from  the  islanders.  I  think  that, 
if  you  had  not  killed  Spiro,  he  would  not  have 
lived  long  after  knowing  it." 

"  The  deuce  !  "  I  exclaimed.     "  And  Vlacho?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Constantine  is  very  fond 

of  Vlacho.  Still,  perhaps,  some  day "  The 

unfinished  sentence  was  expressive  enough. 

"  What  use  was  the  secret  ? "  I  asked,  as  we 
groped  our  way  slowly  along  and  edged  by  the 
body  of  Spiro,  which  lay, — six  feet  of  dead  clay, 
— in  the  path. 

"  In   the   first  place,  we  could  escape  by  it," 


128  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

she  answered,  "  if  any  tumult  arose  in  the  island. 
That  was  what  Stefan  tried  to  do,  and  would 
have  done,  had  not  his  own  kindred  been  against 
him,  and  overtaken  him  here  in  the  passage." 

"And  in  the  second  place?  "  I  asked. 

Phroso  stopped,  turned  round,  and  faced  me. 

"  In  the  second  place,"  she  said,  "  if  any  one 
of  the  islanders  became  very  powerful — too  pow- 
erful, you  know — then  the  ruling  Lord  would 
show  him  great  favour ;  and,  as  a  crowning  mark 
of  his  confidence,  he  would  bid  him  come  by 
night  and  learn  the  great  secret ;  and  they  two 
would  come  together  down  this  passage.  But 
the  Lord  would  return  alone." 

"And  the  other?" 

"  The  body  of  the  other  would  be  found  two, 
three,  four  days,  or  a  week  later,  tossing  on  the 
shores  of  the  island,"  answered  Phroso.  "  For 
look ! "  and  she  held  the  lantern  high  above  her 
head,  so  that  its  light  projected  in  front  of  us, 
and  I  could  see  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  ahead. 

"  When  they  reached  here, — Stefanopoulos 
and  the  other," — she  went  on,  "  Stefanopoulos 
would  stumble  and  feign  to  twist  his  foot,  and  he 
would  pray  the  other  to  let  him  lean  a  little  on 
his  shoulder.  Thus  they  would  go  on,  the  other 
a  pace  in  front,  the  Lord  leaning  on  his  shoulder  ; 
and  the  Lord  would  hold  the  torch,  but  he 
would  not  hold  it  up,  as  I  hold  the  lantern,  but 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          129 

down  to  the  ground,  so  that  it  should  light  no 
more  than  a  pace  or  two  ahead.  And  when 
they  came  there — do  you  see,  my  lord — there  ?  " 

"  I  see,"  said  I  ;  and  I  believe  I  shivered  a  bit. 

"  When  they  came  there  the  torch  would  sud- 
denly show  the  change,  so  suddenly  that  the 
other  would  start,  and  be,  for  an  instant,  alarmed, 
and  turn  his  head  round  to  the  Lord  to  ask  what 
it  meant." 

Phroso  paused  in  her  recital  of  the  savage,  sim- 
ple, sufficient  old  trick. 

"  Yes  ?  "  said  I.     "  And  at  that  moment ?  " 

"The  Lord's  hand  on  his  shoulder,"  she  an- 
swered, "  which  had  rested  lightly  before,  would 
grow  heavy  as  lead,  and  with  a  great  sudden  im- 
pulse the  other  would  be  hurled  forward,  and 

the  Lord  would  be  alone  again  with  the 

secret,  and  alone  the  holder  of  power  in  Neo- 
palia." 

This  was  certainly  a  pretty  secret  of  empire, 
and  none  the  less  although  the  empire  it  pro- 
tected was  but  nine  miles  long  and  five  broad. 
I  took  the  lantern  from  Phroso's  hand,  saying, 
"  Let's  have  a  look." 

I  stepped  a  pace  or  two  forward,  prodding  the 
ground  with  Hogvardt's  lance  before  I  moved 
my  feet :  and  thus  I  came  to  the  spot  where  the 
Stefanopoulos  used,  with  a  sudden  great  impulse, 
to  propel  his  enemy  down.  For  here  the  rocks, 


130  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

which  hitherto  had  narrowly  edged  and  confined 
the  path,  bayed  out  on  either  side.  The  path 
ran  on,  a  flat  rock  track  about  a  couple  of  feet 
wide,  forming  the  top  of  an  upstanding  cliff ; 
but  on  either  side  there  was  an  interval  of  seven 
or  eight  feet  between  the  path  and  the  walls  of 
rock,  and  the  path  was  unfenced.  Even  had  the 
Stefanopoulos  held  his  hand,  and  given  no 
treacherous  impulse,  it  would  have  needed  a  cool- 
headed  man  to  walk  that  path  by  the  dim  glim- 
mer of  a  torch.  For,  kneeling  down  and  peering 
over  the  side,  I  saw  below  me,  some  seventy  feet 
down,  as  I  judged,  the  dark  gleam  of  water,  and 
I  heard  the  low  moan  of  its  wash.  And  Phroso 
said, — 

"  If  the  man  escaped  the  sharp  rocks  he  would 
fall  into  the  water ;  and  then  if  he  could  not 
swim  he  would  sink  at  once  ;  but  if  he  could 
swim  he  would  swim  round,  and  round,  and  round, 
like  a  fish  in  a  bowl,  till  he  grew  weary,  unless  he 
chanced  to  find  the  only  opening  ;  and  if  he  found 
that  and  passed  through,  he  would  come  to  a 
rapid,  where  the  water  runs  swiftly,  and  he  would 
be  dashed  on  the  rocks.  Only  by  a  miracle  could 
he  escape  death  by  one  or  other  of  these  ways. 
So  I  was  told  when  I  was  of  age  to  know  the 
secret.  And  it  is  certain  that  no  man  who  fell 
into  the  water  has  escaped  alive,  although  their 
bodies  came  out." 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          131 

"  Did  Stefan's  body  come  out  ? "  I  asked, 
peering  at  the  dark  water  with  a  fascinated  gaze. 

"  No,  because  they  tied  weights  to  it  before 
they  threw  it  down,  and  so  with  the  head.  Ste- 
fan is  there  at  the  bottom.  Perhaps  another 
Stefanopoulos  is  there  also  :  for  his  body  was 
never  found.  He  was  caught  by  the  man  he 
threw  down,  and  the  two  fell  together." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  I  with  emphasis,  as 
I  rose  to  my  feet.  "  I  wish  the  same  thing  had 
always  happened." 

"  Then,"  remarked  Phroso  with  a  smile,  "  I 
should  not  be  here  to  tell  you  about  it." 

"  Hum,"  said  I.  "At  all  events  I  wish  it  had 
generally  happened.  For  a  more  villainous  con- 
trivance I  never  heard  of  in  all  my  life.  We 
English  are  not  accustomed  to  this  sort  of  thing." 

Phroso  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  with  a 
strange  expression  of  eagerness,  hesitation,  and 
fear.  Then  she  suddenly  put  out  her  hand  and 
laid  it  on  my  arm. 

"  I    will   not   go  back   to  my  cousin  who  has 

wronged  me,  if if  I  may  stay  with  you,"  she 

said. 

"  If  you  may  stay  !  "  I  exclaimed,  with  a  ner- 
vous laugh. 

"  But  will  you  protect  me  ?  Will  you  stand 
by  me?  Will  you  swear  not  to  leave  me  here 
alone  on  the  island  ?  If  you  will,  I  will  tell  you 


132  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

another  thing — a  thing  that  would  certainly  bring 
me  death  if  it  were  known  I  had  told." 

"  Whether  you  tell  me,  or  whether  you  don't," 
said  I,  "  I'll  do  what  you  ask." 

"Then  you  are  not  the  first  Englishman  who 
has  been  here.  Seventy  years  ago  there  came 
an  Englishman  here,  a  daring  man,  a  lover  of 
our  people,  and  a  friend  of  the  great  Byron. 
Orestes  Stefanopoulos,  who  ruled  here  then, 
loved  him  very  much,  and  brought  him  here,  and 
showed  him  the  path  and  the  water  under  it. 
And  he,  the  Englishman,  came  next  day  with  a 
rope,  and  fixed  the  rope  at  the  top,  and  let  him- 
self down.  Somehow,  I  do  not  know  how,  he 
came  safe  out  to  the  sea,  past  the  rocks  and  the 
rapids.  But,  alas,  he  boasted  of  it !  Thus,  when 
the  thing  became  known,  all  the  family  came  to 
Orestes  and  asked  him  what  he  had  done.  And 
he  said, — 

"  '  Sup  with  me  this  night,  and  I  will  tell  you.' 
For  he  saw  that  what  he  had  done  was  known. 

"  So  they  all  supped  together,  and  Orestes  told 
them  what  he  had  done,  and  how  he  did  it  for 
love  of  the  Englishman.  They  said  nothing,  but 
looked  sad  ;  for  they  loved  Orestes.  But  he  did 
not  wait  for  them  to  kill  him,  as  they  were  bound 
to  do  ;  but  he  took  a  great  flagon  of  wine,  and 
poured  into  it  the  contents  of  a  small  flask. 
And  his  kindred  said  :  '  Well  done,  Lord  Ores- 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopoulof.          133 

tes ! '  And  they  all  rose  to  their  feet,  and  drank 
to  him.  And  he  drained  the  flagon  to  their 
good  fortune,  and  went  and  lay  down  on  his  bed, 
and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  died." 

I  paid  less  attention  to  this  new  episode  in  the 
family  history  of  the  Stefanopouloi  than  it  per- 
haps deserved  :  my  thoughts  were  with  the  Eng- 
lishman, not  with  his  too  generous  friend.  Yet 
the  thing  was  handsomely  done— on  both  sides 
handsomely  done. 

"  If  the  Englishman  got  out !  "  I  cried,  gazing 
at  Phroso's  face. 

"Yes,  I  mean  that,"  said  she  simply.  "But  it 
must  be  dangerous." 

"  It's  not  exactly  safe  where  we  are,"  I  said, 
smiling.  "  And  Constantine  will  be  guarding  the 
proper  path.  By  Jove,  we'll  try  it !  " 

"  But  I  must  come  with  you.  For  if  you  go 
that  way  and  escape,  Constantine  will  kill  me." 

"You've  just  as  good  a  right  to  kill  Constan- 
tine." 

"  Still  he  will  kill  me.  You'll  take  me  with 
you  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  will,"  said  I. 

Now,  when  a  man  pledges  his  word,  he  ought, 
to  my  thinking,  to  look  straight  and  honestly  in 
the  eyes  of  the  woman  to  whom  he  is  promising. 
Yet  I  did  not  look  into  Phroso's  eyes,  but  stared 
awkwardly  over  her  head  at  the  walls  of  rock. 


134  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

Then,  without  any  more  words,  we  turned  back 
and  went  towards  the  secret  door.  But  I 
stopped  at  Spiro's  body,  and  said  to  Phroso, — 

"  Will  you  send  Denny  to  me  ?  " 

She  went,  and  when  Denny  came  we  took 
Spiro's  body  and  carried  it  to  where  the  walls 
bayed,  and  we  flung  it  down  into  the  dark  water 
below.  And  I  told  Denny  of  the  Englishman 
who  had  come  alive  through  the  perils  of  the 
hidden  chasm.  He  listened  with  eager  atten- 
tion, nodding  his  head  at  every  point  of  the 
story. 

"  There  lies  our  road,  Denny,"  said  I,  pointing 
with  my  finger.  "  We'll  go  along  it  to-night." 

Denny  looked  down,  shook  his  head,  and 
smiled. 

"  And  the  girl  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"  She  comes  too,"  said  I. 

We  walked  back  together,  Denny  being  un- 
usually silent  and  serious.  I  thought  that  even 
his  audacious  courage  was  a  little  dashed  by  the 
sight  and  the  associations  of  that  grim  place,  so 
I  said, — 

"  Cheer  up.  If  that  other  fellow  got  through 
the  rocks,  we  can." 

"  Oh,  hang  the  rocks !  "  said  Denny  scorn- 
fully. "  I  wasn't  thinking  of  them." 

"Then  what  are  you  so  glum  about  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering,"  said  Denny,  freeing  himself 


The  Secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi.          135 

from  my  arm,  "how  Beatrice   Hipgrave  would 
get  on  with  Euphrosyne." 

I  looked  at  Denny.  I  tried  to  feel  angry,  or 
even,  if  I  failed  in  that,  to  appear  angry.  But  it 
was  no  use.  Denny  was  imperturbable.  I  took 
his  arm  again. 

"  Thanks,  old  man,"  said  I.     "  I'll  remember." 
For  when  I  considered  the  very  emphatic  as- 
sertions which  I  had  made  to  Denny  before  we 
left  England,  I  could  not  honestly  deny  that  he 
was  justified  in  his  little  reminder. 


CHAPTER 
A  Knife  at  a  Rope* 

SOME  modern  thinkers,  I  believe — or  perhaps, 
to  be  quite  safe,  I  had  better  say  some  modern 
talkers — profess  to  estimate  the  value  of  life  by 
reference  to  the  number  of  distinct  sensations 
which  it  enables  them  to  experience.  Judged 
by  a  similar  standard,  my  island  had  been,  up  to 
the  present  time,  a  brilliant  success  ;  it  was  cer- 
tainly fulfilling  the  function,  which  Mrs.  Kennett 
Hipgrave  had  appropriated  to  it,  of  whiling 
away  the  time  that  must  elapse  before  my  mar- 
riage with  her  daughter  and  providing  occupa- 
tion for  my  thoughts  during  this  weary  interval. 
The  difficulty  was  that  the  island  seemed  disin- 
clined to  restrict  itself  to  this  modest  sphere  of 
usefulness;  it  threatened  to  monopolise  me,  and 
to  leave  very  little  of  me  or  my  friends  by  the 
time  that  it  had  finished  with  us.  For,  although 
we  maintained  our  cheerfulness,  our  position  was 
not  encouraging.  Had  matters  been  anything 
short  of  desperate  above  ground  it  would  have 
been  madness  to  plunge  into  that  watery  hole, 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope.  137 

whose  egress  was  unknown  to  us,  and  to  take 
such  a  step  on  the  off-chance  of  finding  at  the 
other  end  the  Cypriote  fishermen,  and  of  obtain- 
ing from  them  either  an  alliance,  or,  if  that  failed, 
the  means  of  flight.  Yet  we  none  of  us  doubted 
that  to  take  the  plunge  was  the  wiser  course.  I 
did  not  believe  in  the  extreme  peril  of  the  pas- 
sage, for,  on  further  questioning,  Phroso  told  us 
that  the  Englishman  had  come  through,  not  only 
alive  and  well,  but  also  dry.  Therefore  there 
was  a  path,  and  along  a  path  that  one  man  can 
go  four  men  can  go  ;  and  Phroso,  again  attired, 
at  my  suggestion,  in  her  serviceable  boy's  suit, 
was  the  equal  of  any  of  us.  So  we  left  consider- 
ing whether,  and  fell  to  the  more  profitable  work 
of  asking  how,  to  go.  Hogvardt  and  Watkins 
went  off  at  once  to  the  point  of  departure,  armed 
with  a  pick,  a  mallet,  some  stout  pegs,  and  a  long 
length  of  rope.  All  save  the  last  were  ready  on 
the  premises,  and  that  last  formed  always  part  of 
Hogvardt's  own  equipment  ;  he  wore  it  round 
his  waist,  and,  I  believe,  slept  in  it,  like  a  me- 
diaeval ascetic.  Meanwhile  Denny  and  I  kept 
watch,  and  Phroso,  who  seemed  out  of  humour, 
disappeared  into  her  own  room. 

Our  idea  was  to  reach  the  other  end  of  the 
journey  somewhere  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  Phroso  told  us  that  this  hour 
was  the  most  favourable  for  finding  the  fishermen  ; 


138  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

they  would  then  be  taking  a  meal  before  launch- 
ing their  boats  for  the  fishing-grounds.  Three 
hours  seemed  ample  time  to  allow  for  the  jour- 
ney, for  the  way  could  hardly,  however  rich  it 
were  in  windings,  be  more  than  three  or  four 
miles  long.  We  determined,  therefore,  to  start 
at  five.  At  four  Hogvardt  and  Watkins  returned 
from  the  underground  passage ;  they  had  driven 
three  stout  pegs  into  excavations  in  the  rocky 
path,  and  built  them  in  securely  with  stones  and 
earth.  The  rope  was  tied  fast  and  firm  round 
the  pegs,  and  the  moistness  of  its  end  showed  its 
length  to  be  sufficient.  I  wished  to  descend 
first,  but  I  was  at  once  overruled  ;  Denny  was  to 
lead,  Watkins  was  to  follow;  then  came  Hog- 
vardt, then  Phroso,  and  lastly  myself.  We  ar- 
ranged all  this  as  we  ate  a  good  meal ;  then  each 
man  stowed  away  a  portion  of  goat — the  goat 
had  died  the  death  that  morning — and  tied  a  flask 
of  wine  about  him.  It  was  a  quarter  to  five,  and 
Denny  rose  to  his  feet,  flinging  away  his  cigarette. 

"  That's  my  last !  "  said  he,  regretfully  regard- 
ing his  empty  case. 

His  words  sounded  ominous,  but  the  spirit  of 
action  was  on  us,  and  we  would  not  be  discouraged. 
I  went  to  the  hall  door  and  fired  a  shot,  and 
then  did  the  like  at  the  back.  Having  thus 
spent  two  cartridges  on  advertising  our  presence 
to  the  pickets,  we  made  without  delay  for  the 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope*  139 

passage,  and  with  my  own  hand  I  closed  the 
door  behind  us.  The  secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi 
would  thus  be  hidden  from  profane  eyes  in  the 
very  likely  event  of  the  islanders  finding  their  way 
into  the  house  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  hours. 

I  persuaded  Phroso  to  sit  down  some  little  way 
from  the  chasm  and  wait  till  we  were  ready  for 
her ;  we  four  went  on.  Denny  was  a  delightful 
boy  to  deal  with  on  such  occasions.  He  wasted 
no  time  in  preliminaries.  He  gave  one  hard  pull 
at  the  rope  ;  it  stood  the  test :  he  cast  a  rapid 
eye  over  the  wedges ;  they  were  strong  and 
strongly  imbedded  in  the  rock.  He  laid  hold  of 
the  rope. 

"  Don't  come  after  me  till  I  shout,"  said  he, 
and  he  was  over  the  side.  The  lantern  showed 
me  his  descending  figure,  while  Hogvardt  and 
Watkins  held  the  rope,  ready  to  haul  him  up  in 
case  of  need.  There  was  one  moment  of  sus- 
pense ;  then  his  voice  came,  distant  and  cavernous. 

"  All  right !  There's  a  broad  ledge — a  foot  and 
a  half  broad — twenty  feet  above  the  water,  and  I 
can  see  a  glimmer  of  light  that  looks  like  the 
way  out." 

"  This  is  almost  disappointingly  simple,"  said  I. 

"  Would  your  lordship  desire  me  to  go  next?  " 
asked  Watkins. 

"  Yes,  fire  away,  Watkins,"  said  I,  now  in  high 
good  humour. 


140  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  Stand  from  under,  sir,"  called  Watkins  to 
Denny,  and  over  he  went. 

A  shout  announced  his  safe  arrival.  I  laid 
down  the  lantern  and  took  hold  of  the  rope. 

"  I  must  hang  on  to  you,  Hog,"  said  I.  "You 
carry  flesh,  you  see." 

Hogvardt  was  calm,  smiling,  and  leisurely. 

"  When  I'm  down,  my  lord,"  he  said,  "  I'll 
stand  ready  to  catch  the  young  lady.  Give  me  a 
call  before  you  start  her  off." 

"All  right,"  I  answered.  "I'll  go  and  fetch 
her  directly." 

Over  went  old  Hogvardt.  He  groaned  once ; 
I  suppose  he  grazed  against  the  wall ;  but  he  de- 
scended with  perfect  safety.  Denny  called : 
"  Now  we're  ready  for  her,  Charley.  Lower 
away  !  "  And  I,  turning,  began  to  walk  back  to 
where  I  had  left  Phroso. 

My  island — I  can  hardly  resist  personifying  it 
in  the  image  of  some  charming  girl,  full  of  tricks 
and  surprises,  yet  all  the  while  enchanting — had 
now  behaved  well  for  two  hours.  The  limit  of 
its  endurance  seemed  to  be  reached.  In  another 
five  minutes  Phroso  and  I  would  have  been  safely 
down  the  rope,  and  the  party  re-united  at  the 
bottom,  with  a  fair  hope  of  carrying  out  prosper- 
ously at  least  the  first  part  of  the  enterprise. 
But  it  was  not  to  be.  My  eyes  had  grown  ac- 
customed to  the  gloom,  and  when  I  went  back  I 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope.  141 

left  the  lantern  standing  by  the  rope.  Suddenly, 
when  I  was  still  a  few  yards  from  Phroso,  I  heard 
a  curious  noise,  a  sort  of  shuffling  sound  rather 
like  the  noise  made  by  a  rug  or  carpet  drawn 
along  the  floor.  I  stood  still  and  listened,  turn- 
ing my  head  round  to  the  chasm.  The  noise 
continued  for  a  minute.  I  took  a  step  in  the  di- 
rection of  it.  Then  I  seemed  to  see  a  curious 
thing.  The  lantern  appeared  to  get  up,  raise 
itself  a  foot  or  so  in  the  air,  keeping  its  light 
towards  me,  and  throw  itself  over  the  chasm ! 
At  the  same  instant  there  was  a  rasp.  Heavens, 
it  was  a  knife  on  the  rope !  A  cry  came  from 
far  down  in  the  chasm.  I  darted  forward.  I 
rushed  to  where  the  walls  bayed  and  the  chasm 
opened.  The  shuffling  sound  had  begun  again  ; 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  isolated  path,  I  saw  a 
dark  object.  It  must  be  the  figure  of  a  man,  a 
man  who  had  watched  our  proceedings,  unob- 
served by  us,  and  seized  this  chance  of  separat- 
ing our  party.  For  a  moment — a  fatal  moment — 
I  stood  aghast,  doing  nothing.  Then  I  drew  my 
revolver  and  fired  once — twice — thrice.  The 
bullets  whistled  along  the  path,  but  the  dark 
figure  was  no  longer  to  be  seen  there.  But  in  an 
instant  there  came  an  answering  shot  from  across 
the  bridge  of  rock.  Denny  shouted  wildly  to 
me  from  below.  I  fired  again ;  there  was  a 
groan,  but  two  shots  flashed  at  the  very  same 


142  Phrosoi  A  Romance. 

moment.  There  were  two  men  there,  perhaps 
more.  I  stood  again  for  a  moment  undecided  ; 
but  I  could  do  no  good  where  I  was.  I  turned 
and  ran  fairly  and  fast.  "  Come,  come,"  I  cried, 
when  I  reached  Phroso.  "  Come  back,  come 
back !  They've  cut  the  rope  and  they'll  be  on 
us  directly." 

In  spite  of  her  amazement  she  rose  as  I  bade 
her.  We  heard  feet  running  along  the  passage. 
They  would  be  across  the  bridge  now.  Would 
they  stop  and  fire  down  the  chasm  ?  No,  they 
were  coming  on.  We  also  went  on ;  a  touch  of 
Phroso's  practised  fingers  opened  the  door  for 
us;  I  turned,  and  in  wrath  gave  the  pursuers 
one  more  shot.  Then  I  ran  up  the  stairs  and 
shut  the  door  behind  us.  We  were  in  the  hall 
again — but  Phroso  and  I  alone. 

A  hurried  story  told  her  all  that  had  happened. 
Her  breath  came  quick,  and  her  cheek  flushed. 

"  The  cowards !  "  she  said.  "  They  dared  not 
attack  us  when  we  were  all  together !  " 

"  They  will  attack  us  before  very  long  now," 
said  I,  "  and  we  can't  possibly  hold  the  house 
against  them.  Why,  they  may  open  that  trap- 
door any  moment." 

Phroso  stepped  quickly  towards  it,  and,  stoop- 
ing for  an  instant,  examined  it.  "  Yes,"  she 
said,  "  they  may.  I  can't  fasten  it.  You  spoiled 
the  fastening  with  your  pick." 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope.  143 

Hearing  this,  I  stepped  close  up  to  the  door, 
reloading  my  revolver  as  I  went,  and  I  called 
out,  "  The  first  man  who  looks  out  is  a  dead 
man." 

No  sound  came  from  below.  Either  they 
were  too  hurt  to  attempt  the  attack,  or,  more 
probably,  they  preferred  the  safer  and  surer  way 
of  surrounding  and  overwhelming  us  by  numbers 
from  outside.  Indeed  we  were  at  our  last  gasp 
now  ;  I  flung  myself  despondently  into  a  chair ; 
but  I  kept  my  finger  on  my  weapon  and  my  eye 
on  the  trap-door. 

"  They  cannot  get  back — our  friends — and  we 
cannot  get  to  them,"  said  Phroso. 

"  No,"  I  replied.  Her  simple  statement  was 
terribly  true. 

"  And  we  cannot  stay  here !  "  she  pursued. 

"They'll  be  at  us  in  an  hour  or  two  at  most, 
I'll  warrant.  Those  fellows  will  carry  back  the 
news  that  we  are  alone  here." 

"And  if  they  come  ?  "  she  said,  fixing  her  eyes 
on  me. 

"They  won't  hurt  you,  will  they?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  Constantine  would  do ; 
but  I  don't  think  the  people  will  let  him  hurt  me, 
unless " 

"  Well,  unless  what  ?  " 

She  hesitated,  looking  at  me,  and  looked  away 
again.  I  believe  that  my  eyes  were  now  guilty 


144  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

of  neglecting  the  trap-door  which  I  ought  to  have 
watched. 

"  Unless  what  ? "  I  said  again.  But  Phroso 
grew  red  and  did  not  answer. 

"  Unless  you're  so  foolish  as  to  try  to  protect 
me,  you  mean?"  I  asked.  "Unless  you  refuse 
to  give  them  back  what  Constantine  offers  to 
win  for  them — the  island  ?  " 

"  They  will  not  let  you  have  the  island,"  she 
said  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  dare  not  face  them  and 
tell  them  it  is  yours." 

"  Do  you  admit  it's  mine?  "  I  asked  eagerly. 

A  slow  smile  dawned  on  Phroso's  face,  and  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  me.  Ah,  Denny,  my  con- 
science, why  were  you  at  the  bottom  of  the 
chasm  ?  I  seized  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  Between  friends,"  she  said  softly,  "  there  is 
no  thine  or  mine." 

Ah,  Denny,  where  were  you  ?  I  kissed  her 
hand  again — and  dropped  it  like  a  red-hot  coal. 

"But  I  can't  say  that  to  my  islanders,"  said 
Phroso,  smiling. 

Charming  as  it  was,  I  wished  she  had  not  said 
it  to  me.  I  wished  that  she  would  not  speak  as 
she  spoke,  or  look  as  she  looked,  or  be  what  she 
was.  I  forgot  all  about  the  trap-door.  The 
island  was  piling  sensations  on  me. 

At  last  I  got  up  and  went  to  the  table.  I 
found  there  a  scrap  of  paper,  on  which  Denny 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope.  145 

had  drawn  a  fancy  sketch  of  Constantine  (to 
whom,  by  the  way,  he  attributed  hoofs  and  a  tail). 
I  turned  the  blank  side  uppermost,  and  took  my 
pencil  out  of  my  pocket.  I  was  determined  to 
put  the  thing  on  a  business-like  footing  ;  so  I 
began  :  "  Whereas  " — which  has  a  cold,  legal, 
business-like  sound : 

"  Whereas,"  I  wrote  in  English,  "  this  island 
of  Neopalia  is  mine,  I  hereby  fully,  freely,  and 
absolutely  give  it  to  the  Lady  Euphrosyne, 
niece  of  Stefan  Georgios  Stefanopoulos,  lately 
Lord  of  the  said  island — WHEATLEY."  And  I 
made  a  copy  underneath  in  Greek,  and,  walking 
across  to  Phroso,  handed  the  paper  to  her,  re- 
marking, in  a  rather  disagreeable  tone,  "  There 
you  are  ;  that'll  put  it  all  straight,  I  hope."  And 
I  sat  down  again,  feeling  out  of  humour.  I  did 
not  like  giving  up  my  island,  even  to  Phroso. 
Moreover  I  had  the  strongest  doubt  whether 
my  surrender  would  be  of  the  least  use  in  saving 
my  skin. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  need  relate  what  Phroso 
did  when  I  gave  her  back  her  island.  These 
southern  races  have  picturesque  but  extravagant 
ways.  I  did  not  know  where  to  look  while  she 
was  thanking  me,  and  it  was  as  much  as  I  could 
do  not  to  call  out,  "  Do  stop ! "  However, 
presently  she  did  stop,  but  not  because  I  asked 
her.  She  was  stayed  by  a  sudden  thought  which 


146  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

had  been  in  my  mind  all  the  while,  but  now 
flashed  suddenly  into  hers. 

"But  Constantine  ? "  she  said.  "You  know 

his his  secrets.  Won't  he  still  try  to  kill 

you?" 

Of  course  he  would  if  he  valued  his  own  neck. 
For  I  had  sworn  to  see  him  hanged  for  one  mur- 
der, and  I  knew  that  he  meditated  another. 

"Oh,  don't  you  bother  about  that!"  said  I. 
"  I  expect  I  can  manage  Constantine." 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  desert  you  ?  "  she 
asked  in  superb  indignation. 

"  No,  no  ;  of  course  not,"  I  protested,  rather  in 
a  fright.  "  I  shouldn't  think  of  accusing  you  of 
such  a  thing." 

"  You  know  that's  what  you  meant,"  said 
Phroso,  a  world  of  reproach  in  her  voice. 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  I,  "  getting  you  into 
trouble  won't  get  me  out  of  it,  and  getting  you 
out  may  get  me  out.  Take  that  paper  in  your 
hand,  and  go  back  to  your  people.  Say  nothing 
about  Constantine  just  now ;  play  with  him. 
You  know  what  I've  told  you,  and  you  won't  be 
deluded  by  him.  Don't  let  him  see  that  you 
know  anything  of  the  woman  at  the  cottage.  It 
won't  help  you,  it  may  hurt  me,  and  it  will  cer- 
tainly bring  her  into  greater  danger ;  for,  if  noth- 
ing has  happened  to  her  already,  yet  something 
may  if  his  suspicions  are  aroused." 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope.  147 

"  I  am  to  do  all  this.  And  what  will  you  do, 
my  lord  ?  " 

"  I  say,  don't  call  me  '  my  lord  ' ;  we  say  '  Lord 
Wheatley.'  What  am  I  going  to  do?  I'm  go- 
ing to  make  a  run  for  it." 

"But  they'll  kill  you  !" 

"  Then  shall  I  stay  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  stay  here." 

"  But  Constantine's  fellows  will  be  here  before 
long." 

"  You  must  give  yourself  up  to  them,  and  tell 
them  to  bring  you  to  me.  They  couldn't  hurt 
you  then." 

Well,  I  wasn't  sure  of  that,  but  I  pretended  to 
believe  it.  The  truth  is  that  I  dared  not  tell 
Phroso  what  I  had  actually  resolved  to  do.  It 
was  a  risky  job,  but  it  was  a  chance ;  and  it  was 
more  than  a  chance.  It  was  very  like  an  obliga- 
tion that  a  man  had  no  right  to  shrink  from  dis- 
charging. Here  was  I,  planning  to  make  Phroso 
comfortable  :  that  was  right  enough.  And  here 
was  I  planning  to  keep  my  own  skin  whole  :  well, 
a  man  does  no  wrong  in  doing  that.  But  what 
of  that  unlucky  woman  on  the  hill?  I  knew 
friend  Constantine  would  take  care  that  Phroso 
should  not  come  within  speaking  distance  of  her. 
Was  nobody  to  set  her  on  her  guard  ?  Was  I  to 
leave  her  to  her  blind  trust  of  the  ruffian  whom 
she  was  unfortunate  enough  to  call  husband,  and 


148  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

of  his  tool  Vlacho  ?  Now  I  came  to  think  of  it, 
now  that  I  was  separated  from  my  friends  and 
had  no  lingering  hope  of  being  able  to  beat  Con- 
stantine  in  fair  fight,  that  seemed  hardly  the 
right  thing,  hardly  a  thing  I  should  care  to  talk 
about  or  think  about,  if  I  did  save  my  own 
precious  skin.  Would  not  Constantine  teach  his 
wife  the  secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi  ?  Urged  by 
these  reflections,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  play  a 
little  trick  on  Phroso,  and  feigned  to  accept  her 
suggestion  that  I  should  rely  on  her  to  save  me. 
Evidently  she  had  great  confidence  in  her  influ- 
ence now  that  she  held  that  piece  of  paper.  I 
had  less  confidence  in  it,  for  it  was  clear  that 
Constantine  wielded  immense  power  over  these 
unruly  islanders,  and  I  thought  it  likely  enough 
that  they  would  demand  from  Phroso  a  promise 
to  marry  him  as  the  price  of  obeying  her;  then, 
whether  Constantine  did  or  not  promise  me  my 
life,  I  felt  sure  that  he  would  do  his  best  to  rob 
me  of  it. 

Well,  time  pressed.  I  rose  and  unbolted  the 
door  of  the  house.  Phroso  sat  still.  I  looked 
along  the  road.  I  saw  nobody,  but  I  heard  the 
blast  of  the  horn  which  had  fallen  on  my  ears 
once  before,  and  had  proved  the  forerunner  of  an 
attack.  Phroso  also  heard  it,  for  she  sat  up,  say- 
ing, "  Hark,  they  are  summoning  all  the  men  to 
the  town  !  That  means  they  are  coming  here." 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope,  149 

But  it  meant  something  else  also  to  me;  if  the 
men  were  summoned  to  the  town,  there  would 
be  fewer  for  me  to  elude  in  the  wood. 

"Will  they  all  go?"  I  asked,  as  though  in 
mere  curiosity. 

"  All  who  are  not  on  some  duty,"  she  an- 
swered. 

I  had  to  hope  for  the  best ;  but  Phroso  went 
on  in  distress, — 

"  It  means  that  they  are  coming  here — here,  to 
take  you." 

"  Then  you  must  lose  no  time  in  going,"  said  I, 
and  I  took  her  hand  and  gently  raised  her  to  her 
feet.  She  stood  there  for  a  moment,  looking  at 
me.  I  had  let  go  her  hand,  but  she  took  mine 
again  now,  and  she  said  with  a  sudden  vehemence, 
and  a  rush  of  rich,  deep  red  on  her  cheeks, — 

"  If  they  kill  you,  they  shall  kill  me  too." 

The  words  gushed  impetuously  from  her,  but 
at  the  end  there  was  a  choke  in  her  throat. 

"  No,  no,  nonsense,"  said  I.  "You've  got  the 
island  now.  You  mustn't  talk  like  that." 

"I  don't  care "  she  began;  and  stopped 

short. 

"  Besides,  I  shall  pull  through,"  said  I. 

She  dropped  my  hand,  but  she  kept  her  eyes 
on  mine. 

"  And  if  you  get  away  ?  "  she  asked.  "  What 
will  you  do  ?  If  you  get  to  Rhodes,  what  will 
you  do  ?" 


150  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"All  I  shall  do  is  to  lay  an  information  against 
your  cousin  and  the  innkeeper.  The  rest  are 
ignorant  fellows,  and  I  bear  them  no  malice. 
Besides,  they  are  your  men  now." 

"And  when  you  have  done  that?"  she  asked 
gravely. 

"Well,  that'll  be  all  there  is  to  do,"  said  I, 
with  an  attempt  at  playful  gaiety.  It  was  not  a 
very  happy  attempt. 

"Then  you'll  go  home  to  your  own  people?" 

"  I  shall  go  home;  I've  got  no  people  in  par- 
ticular." 

"Shall  you  ever  come  to  Neopalia  again?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     Yes,  if  you  invite  me." 

She  regarded  me  intently  for  a  full  minute. 
She  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  blast  of  the 
horn  that  summoned  the  islanders.  I  also  had 
forgotten  it ;  I  saw  nothing  but  the  perfect  oval 
face,  crowned  with  clustering  hair  and  framing 
deep  liquid  eyes.  Then  she  drew  a  ring  from  her 
finger. 

"  You  have  fought  for  me,"  she  said.  "  You 
have  risked  your  life  for  me.  Will  you  take  this 
ring  from  me  ?  Once  I  tried  to  stab  you.  Do 
you  remember,  my  lord?" 

I  bowed  my  head,  and  Phroso  set  the  ring  on 
my  finger. 

"  Wear  it  till  a  woman  you  love  gives  you  one 
to  wear  instead,"  said  Phroso,  with  a  little  smile. 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope*  151 

"  Then  go  to  the  edge  of  your  island, — you  are 
an  islander  too,  are  you  not,  so  we  are  brethren? 
— go  to  the  edge  of  your  island  and  throw  it  into 
the  sea ;  and  perhaps  my  dear  friend  the  sea  will 
bring  it  back,  a  message  from  you  to  me.  For  I 
think  you  will  never  again  come  to  Neopalia." 

I  made  no  answer;  we  walked  together  to  the 
door  of  the  house,  and  paused  again  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  threshold. 

"  See  the  blue  sea !  "  said  Phroso.  "  Is  it  not 
— is  not  your  island — a  beautiful  island  ?  If  God 
brings  you  safe  to  your  own  land,  my  lord,  as  I 
will  pray  Him  to  do  on  my  knees,  think  kindly 
of  your  island,  and  of  one  who  dwells  there." 

The  blast  of  the  horn  had  died  away.  The 
setting  sun  was  turning  blue  to  gold  on  the  quiet 
water.  The  evening  was  very  still,  as  we  stood 
looking  from  the  threshold  of  the  door,  under 
the  portal  of  the  house  that  had  seen  such 
strange,  wild  doings,  and  had  so  swiftly  made  for 
itself  a  place  for  ever  in  my  life  and  memory. 

I  glanced  at  Phroso's  face.  Her  eyes  were 
set  on  the  sea,  her  cheek  had  gone  pale  again, 
and  her  lip  was  quivering.  Suddenly  came  a 
loud  sharp  note  on  the  horn. 

"  It  is  the  signal  for  the  start,"  said  she.  "  I 
must  go,  or  they  will  be  here  in  heat  and  anger, 
and  I  shall  not  be  able  to  stop  them.  And  they 
will  kill  my  lord.  No,  I  wz7/say  '  my  lord.'  " 


152  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

She  moved  to  leave  me.  I  had  answered 
nothing  to  all  she  had  said.  What  was  there 
that  an  honourable  man  could  say?  Was  there 
one  thing  ?  I  told  myself  (too  eager  to  tell  my- 
self) that  I  had  no  right  to  presume  to  say  that. 
And  anything  else  I  would  not  say. 

"  God  bless  you,''  I  said,  as  she  moved  away. 
I  caught  her  hand  and  again  lightly  kissed  it. 
"My  homage  to  the  Lady  of  the  Island,"  I 
whispered. 

Her  hand  dwelt  in  mine  a  moment,  briefer 
than  our  divisions  of  time  can  reckon,  fuller  than 
is  often  the  longest  of  them.  Then,  with  one  last 
look,  questioning,  appealing,  excusing,  protest- 
ing, confessing,  aye, and  (for  my  sins)  hoping, 

she  left  me,  and  stepped  along  the  rocky 

road  in  the  grace  and  glory  of  her  youth  and 
beauty.  I  stood  watching  her,  forgetting  the 
woman  at  the  cottage,  forgetting  my  own  danger, 
forgetting  even  the  peril  she  ran  whom  I  watched, 
forgetting  everything  save  the  old  that  bound 
me  and  the  new  that  called  me.  So  I  stood  till 
she  vanished  from  my  sight  ;  and  still  I  stood, 
for  she  was  there  though  the  road  hid  her.  And 
I  was  roused  at  last  only  by  a  great  cry,  of  sur- 
prise, of  fierce  joy  and  triumph,  that  rent  the 
still  air  of  the  evening,  and  echoed  back  in  rum- 
blings from  the  hill.  The  Neopalians  were  greet- 
ing their  rescued  Lady. 


A  Knife  at  a  Rope*  153 

Then  I  turned,  snatched  up  Hogvardt's  lance 
again,  and  fled  through  the  house  to  do  my 
errand.  For  I  would  save  that  woman,  if  I 
could  ;  and  my  own  life  was  not  mine  to  lose  any 
more  than  it  was  mine  to  give  to  whom  I  would. 
And  I  recollect  that,  as  I  ran  through  the  kitchen 
and  across  the  compound,  making  for  the  steps 
in  the  bank  of  rocks,  I  said,  "  God  forgive  me  !  " 


CHAPTER  DC 
Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon! 

A  MAN'S  mind  can  move  on  more  than  one 
line ;  even  the  most  engrossing  selfish  care  may 
fail  entirely  to  occupy  it  or  to  shut  out  intruding 
rivals.  Not  only  should  I  have  been  wise,  but  I 
should  have  chosen,  in  that  risky  walk  of  mine 
through  the  wood  that  covered  the  hillslope,  to 
think  of  nothing  but  its  risk.  Yet  countless 
other  things  exacted  a  share  of  my  thoughts  and 
figured  amongst  my  brain's  images.  Sometimes 
I  was  with  Denny  and  his  faithful  followers, 
threading  dark  and  devious  ways  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth ;  avoiding  deep  waters  on  one  side, 
and  sheer  falls  on  the  other ;  losing  the  track, 
and  finding  it  again  ;  deluded  by  deceptive  glim- 
mers of  light,  but  finding  at  last  the  true  outlet  ; 
now  received  hospitably  by  the  Cypriote  fisher- 
men, now  fiercely  assailed  by  them,  again  finding 
none  of  them  ;  now  making  allies  of  them,  now 
carried  prisoners  by  them  to  Constantine,  again 
scouring  the  sea  with  vain  eagerness  for  a  sight 
of  their  sails.  Then  I  was  off,  far  away,  to  Eng- 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  155 

land  :  to  my  friends  there  ;  to  the  gaiety  of  Lon- 
don, now  in  its  full  rushing  tide  ;  to  Mrs.  Hip- 
grave's  exclusive  receptions  ;  to  Beatrice's  gay 
talk  and  pretty  insolence ;  to  Hamlyn's  gilded 
dullness, — in  rapid  survey  of  all  the  panorama 
that  I  knew  so  well.  Then  I  would  turn  back  to 
the  scene  I  had  left,  and  again  bid  my  farewell 
under  the  quiet  sky,  in  prospect  of  the  sea  that 
turned  to  gold.  So  I  passed  back  and  forward 
till  I  seemed  myself  hardly  a  thinking  man,  but 
rather  a  piece  of  blank  glass,  across  which  the 
myriad  mites  of  the  kaleidoscope  chased  one 
another,  covering  it  with  varying  colours,  but 
none  of  them  imparting  their  hue  to  it.  Yet  all 
this  time,  by  the  strange  division  of  mental  activ- 
ity of  which  I  have  spoken,  I  was  crawling  cau- 
tiously but  quickly  up  the  mountain  side,  with 
eyes  keen  to  pierce  the  dusk  that  now  fell,  with 
ears  apt  to  find  an  enemy  in  every  rustling  leaf, 
and  a  hostile  step  in  every  woodland  sound.  Of 
real  foes  I  had  as  yet  seen  none.  Ah  !  Hush ! 
I  dropped  on  my  knees.  Away  there  on  the 
right — what  was  it  leaning  against  that  tree- 
trunk  ?  It  was  a  tall,  lean  man  ;  his  arms  rested 
on  a  long  gun,  and  his  face  was  towards  the  old 
grey  house.  Would  he  see  me?  I  crouched 
lower.  Would  he  hear  me?  I  was  as  still  as 
dead  Spiro  had  lain  in  the  passage.  But  then  I 
felt  stealthily  for  the  butt  of  my  revolver,  and  a 


156  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

recollection  so  startling  came  to  me  that  I  nearly 
betrayed  myself  by  some  sudden  movement.  In 
the  distribution  of  burdens  for  our  proposed 
journey  Denny  had  taken  the  case  containing 
the  spare  cartridges  which  remained  after  we  had 
all  reloaded.  Now  I  had  one  barrel  only  loaded, 
one  shot  only  left.  That  one  shot  and  Hog- 
vardt's  lance  were  all  my  resources.  I  crouched 
yet  lower.  But  the  man  was  motionless,  and 
presently  I  ventured  to  move  on  my  hands  and 
knees,  sorely  inconvenienced  by  the  long  lance, 
but  determined  not  to  leave  it  behind  me.  I 
passed  another  sentry  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
away  on  the  left ;  his  head  was  sunk  on  his 
breast  and  he  took  no  notice  of  me.  I  breathed 
a  little  more  freely  as  I  came  within  fifty  feet  of 
the  cottage. 

Immediately  about  the  house  nobody  was  in 
sight.  This,  however,  in  Neopalia,  did  not  al- 
ways mean  that  nobody  was  near,  and  I  abated 
none  of  my  caution.  But  the  last  step  had  to  be 
taken  ;  I  crawled  out  from  the  shelter  of  the 
trees,  and  crouched  on  one  knee  on  the  level 
space  in  front  of  the  cottage.  The  cottage  door 
was  open.  I  listened,  but  heard  nothing.  Well, 
I  meant  to  go  in  ;  my  entrance  would  be  none 
the  easier  for  waiting.  A  quick  dart  was  safest ; 
in  a  couple  of  bounds  I  was  across,  in  the  veran- 
dah, through  the  entrance,  in  the  house.  I 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  157 

closed  the  door  noiselessly  behind  me,  and  stood 
there,  Hogvardt's  lance  ready  for  the  first  man  I 
saw  ;  but  I  saw  none.  I  was  in  a  narrow  passage  ; 
there  were  doors  on  either  side  of  me.  Listen- 
ing again,  I  heard  no  sound  from  right  or  left.  I 
opened  the  door  to  the  right.  I  saw  a  small 
square  room  ;  the  table  was  spread  for  a  meal, 
three  places  being  laid,  but  the  room  was  empty. 
I  turned  to  the  other  door  and  opened  it.  This 
room  was  darker,  for  heavy  curtains,  drawn 
no  doubt  earlier  in  the  day  to  keep  out  the  sun, 
had  not  been  drawn  back,  and  the  light  was 
very  dim.  For  a  while  I  could  make  out  little, 
but,  my  eyes  growing  more  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  I  soon  perceived  that  I  was  in  a  sit- 
ting-room, sparsely  and  rather  meanly  furnished. 
Then  my  eyes  fell  on  a  couch  which  stood 
against  the  wall  opposite  me.  On  the  couch  lay 
a  figure.  It  was  the  figure  of  a  woman  ;  I  heard 
now  the  slight  but  regular  sound  of  her  breath. 
She  was  asleep.  This  must  be  the  woman  I 
sought.  But  was  she  a  sensible  woman?  Or 
would  she  scream  when  I  waked  her,  and  bring 
those  tall  fellows  out  of  the  wood  ?  In  hesitation 
I  stood  still  and  watched  her.  She  slept  like  one 
who  was  weary,  but  not  at  peace  :  restless  move- 
ments and,  now  and  again,  broken,  incoherent 
exclamations  witnessed  to  her  disquiet.  Pres- 
ently her  broken  sleep  passed  into  half-wakeful 


158  Phroso :  A  Romance. 

consciousness,  and  she  sat  up,  looking  round  her 
with  a  dazed  glance. 

"Is  that  you,  Constantine?  "  she  asked,  rub- 
bing her  hand  across  her  eyes.  "  Or  is  it  Vlacho  ?  " 

With  a  swift  step  I  was  by  her. 

"  Neither.  Not  a  word  !  "  I  said,  laying  my 
hand  on  her  shoulder. 

I  was,  I  dare  say,  an  alarming  figure,  with  the 
butt  of  my  revolver  peeping  out  of  my  pocket 
and  Hogvardt's  lance  in  my  right  hand.  But 
she  did  not  cry  out. 

"  I  am  Wheatley.  I  have  escaped  from  the 
house  there,"  I  went  on.  "  And  I  have  come 
here  because  there's  something  I  must  tell  you. 
You  remember  our  last  meeting  ?  " 

She  looked  at  me  still  in  amazed  surprise,  but 
with  a  gleam  of  recollection. 

"  Yes,  yes.  You  were — we  went  to  watch  you 
— yes,  at  the  restaurant." 

"  You  went  to  watch  and  to  listen  ?  Yes,  I  sup- 
posed so.  But  I've  been  near  you  since  then. 
Do  you  remember  the  man  who  was  on  your 
verandah  ?  " 

"  That  was  you  ?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"Yes,  it  was.  And  while  I  was  there,  I 
heard " 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  This  house 
is  watched.  Constantine  may  be  here  any  mo- 
ment, or  Vlacho." 


Hats  off  to  St.  TryphonJ  159 

"  I'm  as  safe  here  as  I  was  down  the  hill. 
Now  listen.  Are  you  this  man's  wife,  as  he 
called  you  that  night  ?  " 

"Am  I  his  wife?  Of  course  I'm  his  wife. 
How  else  should  I  be  here  ?  "  The  indignation 
expressed  in  her  answer  was  the  best  guarantee 
of  its  truth,  and  became  her  well.  And  she  held 
her  hand  up  to  me,  as  she  had  to  the  man  him- 
self in  the  restaurant,  adding,  "  There  is  his 
ring." 

"  Then  listen  to  me,  and  don't  interrupt,"  said 
I  brusquely.  "  Time's  valuable  to  me,  and  even 
more,  I  fear,  to  you." 

Her  eyes  were  alarmed  now,  but  she  listened 
in  silence  as  I  bade  her.  I  told  her  briefly  what 
had  happened  to  me,  and  then  I  set  before  her 
more  fully  the  conversation  between  Constantine 
and  Vlacho  which  I  had  overheard.  She  clutched 
the  cushions  of  the  sofa  in  her  clenched  hand ; 
her  breathing  came  quick  and  fast ;  her  eyes 
gleamed  at  me  even  in  the  gloom  of  the  cur- 
tained room.  I  do  not  believe  that  in  her  heart 
she  was  surprised  at  what  she  heard.  She  had 
mistrusted  the  man  ;  her  manner,  even  on  our  first 
encounter,  had  gone  far  to  prove  that.  She  re- 
ceived my  story  rather  as  a  confirmation  of  her 
own  suspicions  than  as  a  new  or  startling  reve- 
lation. She  was  fearful,  excited,  strung  to  a 
high  pitch ;  but  astonished  she  was  not,  if  I  read 


160  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

her  right.  And  when  I  ended,  it  was  not  aston- 
ishment that  clenched  her  lips  and  brought  to 
her  eyes  a  look  which  I  think  Constantine  him- 
self would  have  shrunk  from  meeting.  I  had 
paused  at  the  end  of  my  narrative,  but  I  recol- 
lected one  thing  more.  I  must  warn  her  about 
the  secret  passage;  for  that  offered  her  husband 
too  ready  and  easy  a  way  of  relieving  himself  of 
his  burden.  But  now  she  interrupted  me. 

"  This  girl  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  have  not  seen  her. 
What  is  she  like?  " 

"  She  is  very  beautiful,"  said  I  simply.  "  She 
knows  what  I  have  told  you,  and  she  is  on  her 
guard.  You  need  fear  nothing  from  her.  It  is 
your  husband  whom  you  have  to  fear." 

"  He  would  kill  me?"  she  asked,  with  a  ques- 
tioning glance. 

"You've  heard  what  he  said,"  I  returned. 
"  Put  your  own  meaning  on  it." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  I  can't  stay  here  ;  I  can't  stay  here.  Mer- 
ciful heaven !  they  may  come  any  moment ! 
Where  are  you  going?  How  are  you  going  to 
escape  ?  You  are  in  as  much  danger  as  I  am." 

"  I  believe  in  even  greater,"  said  I.  "  I  was 
going  straight  from  here  down  to  the  sea.  If  I 
can  find  my  friends,  we'll  go  through  with  the 
thing  together.  If  I  don't  find  them,  I  shall 
hunt  for  a  boat.  If  I  don't  find  a  boat — well,  I'm 


Hats  off  to  St«  Tryphon!  161 

a  good  swimmer,  and  I  shall  live  as  long  in  the 
water  as  in  Neopalia,  and  die  easier,  I  fancy." 

She  was  standing  now,  facing  me,  and  she  laid 
her  hand  on  my  arm. 

"  You  stand  by  women,  you  Englishmen,"  she 
said.  "You  won't  leave  me  tc  be  murdered  ?  " 

"You  see  I  am  here.  Doesn't  that  answer 
your  question  ?  " 

"  My  God,  he's  a  fiend  !  Will  you  take  me 
with  you  ?  " 

What  could  I  do  ?  Her  coming  gave  little 
chance  to  her  and  robbed  me  of  almost  all  pros- 
pect of  escape.  But  of  course  I  could  not  leave 
her. 

"  You  must  come  if  you  can  see  no  other  way," 
said  I. 

"  Why,  what  other  is  there?  If  I  avoid  him 
he  will  see  I  suspect  him.  If  I  appear  to  trust 
him,  I  must  put  myself  in  his  power." 

"Then  we  must  go,"  said  I.  "  But  it's  a  thou- 
sand to  one  that  we  don't  get  through." 

I  had  hardly  spoken  when  a  voice  outside  said, 
"  Is  all  well?  "  and  a  heavy  step  echoed  in  the 
verandah. 

"  Vlacho  !  "  she  hissed  in  a  whisper.  "  Vlacho  ! 
Are  you  armed  ?  " 

"  In  a  way,"  said  I  with  a  shrug.  "  But  there 
are  at  least  two  besides  him.  I  saw  them  in  the 
wood." 


1 62  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"Yes,  yes,  true.  There  are  four  generally.  It 
would  be  death.  Here,  hide  behind  the  curtains. 
I'll  try  to  put  him  off  for  the  moment.  Quick, 
Quick !  " 

She  was  hurried  and  eager,  but  I  saw  that  her 
wits  were  clear.  I  stepped  behind  the  curtains 
and  she  drew  them  close.  I  heard  her  fling 
herself  again  on  the  couch.  Then  came  the  inn- 
keeper's voice,  its  roughness  softened  in  deferen- 
tial greeting.  At  the  same  time  a  strong  smell 
of  eau  de  Cologne  pervaded  the  room. 

"  Am  I  well  ? "  said  Madame  Stefanopoulos 
fretfully.  "  My  good  Vlacho,  I  am  very  ill. 
Should  I  sit  in  a  dark  room  and  bathe  my  head 
with  this  stuff  if  I  were  well  ?  " 

"  My  lady's  sickness  grieves  me  beyond  expres- 
sion," said  Vlacho  politely.  "  And  the  more  so 
because  I  am  come  from  my  Lord  Constantine 
with  a  message  for  you." 

"  It  is  easier  for  him  to  send  messages  than  to 
come  himself,"  she  remarked,  with  admirable 
pretence  of  resentment. 

"Think  how  occupied  he  has  been  with  this 
pestilent  Englishman  !  "  said  the  plausible  Vla- 
cho. "  We  have  had  no  peace.  But  at  last  I 
hope  our  troubles  are  over.  The  house  is  ours 
again." 

"  Ah,  you  have  driven  them  out  ?  " 

"  They  fled  themselves,"    said   Vlacho.     "  But 


Hats  off  to  St«  Tryphon!  163 

they  are  separated  and  we  shall  catch  them.  Oh, 
yes,  we  know  where  to  look  for  most  of  them." 

"  Then  you've  not  caught  any  of  them  yet  ? 
How  stupid  you  are  !  " 

"  My  Lady  is  severe.  No,  we  have  caught  none 
yet." 

"Not  even  Wheatley  himself?"  she  asked. 
"  Has  he  shown  you  a  clean  pair  of  heels?  " 

Vlacho's  voice  betrayed  irritation  as  he  an- 
swered,— 

"  We  shall  find  him  also  in  time,  though 
heaven  knows  where  the  rascal  has  hidden  him- 
self." 

"  You're  really  very  stupid,"  said  Francesca. 
I  heard  her  sniff  her  perfume.  "  And  the  girl  ?  " 
she  went  on. 

"  Oh,  we  have  her  safe  and  sound,"  laughed 
Vlacho.  "  She'll  give  no  more  trouble." 

"  Why,  what  will  you  do  with  her  ?  " 

"  You  must  ask  my  Lord  that,"  said  Vlacho. 
"  If  she  will  give  up  the  island,  perhaps  noth- 
ing." 

"  Ah,  well,  I  take  very  little  interest  in  her. 
Isn't  my  husband  coming  to  supper,  Vlacho  ?  " 

"To  supper  here,  my  Lady?  Surely,  no. 
The  great  house  is  ready  now.  That  is  a  more 
fitting  place  for  my  Lady  than  this  dog-hole.  I 
am  here  to  escort  you  there  ;  there  my  Lord  will 
sup  with  you.  Oh,  it's  a  grand  house !  " 


164  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"A  grand  house!"  she  echoed  scornfully. 
"  Why,  what  is  there  to  see  in  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  many  things,"  said  Vlacho.  "  Yes, 
secrets,  my  Lady !  And  my  Lord  bids  me  say 
that  from  love  to  you  he  will  show  you  to-night 
the  'great  secret  of  his  house.  He  desires  to 
show  his  love  and  trust  in  you,  and  will  therefore 
reveal  to  you  all  his  secrets." 

When  I,  behind  the  curtain,  heard  the  ruffian 
say  this,  I  laid  firmer  hold  on  my  lance.  But  the 
Lady  was  equal  to  Vlacho. 

"  You're  very  melodramatic  with  your  secrets," 
she  said  contemptuously.  "  I  am  tired,  and  my 
head  aches.  Your  secrets  will  wait  ;  and  if  my 
husband  will  not  come  and  sup  with  me,  I'll  sup 
alone  here.  Tell  him  I  can't  come,  please, 
Vlacho." 

"  But  my  Lord  was  most  urgent  that  you 
should  come,"  said  Vlacho. 

"  I  would  come  if  I  were  well,"  said  she. 

"  But  I  could  help  you.  If  you  would  permit, 
I  and  my  men  would  carry  you  down  all  the  way 
on  your  couch." 

"  My  good  Vlacho,  you  are  very  tedious,  you 
and  your  men.  And  my  husband  is  tedious  also, 
if  he  sent  all  these  long  messages.  I  am  ill  and 
I  will  not  come.  Is  that  enough?" 

"  My  Lord  will  be  very  angry  if  I  return  alone," 
pleaded  Vlacho  humbly. 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  165 

"  I'll  write  a  certificate  that  you  did  your  best 
to  persuade  me,"  she  said  with  a  scornful  laugh. 

I  heard  the  innkeeper's  heavy  feet  move  a  step 
or  two  across  the  floor.  He  was  coming  nearer 
to  where  she  lay  on  the  couch. 

"  I  daren't  return  without  you,"  said  he. 

"  Then  you  must  stay  here  and  sup  with  me." 

"  My  Lord  does  not  love  to  be  opposed." 

"  Then,  my  good  Vlacho,  he  should  not  have 
married  me,"  she  retorted. 

She  played  the  game  gallantly,  fencing  and 
parrying  with  admirable  tact,  and  with  a  coolness 
wonderful  for  a  woman  in  such  peril.  My  heart 
went  out  to  her,  and  I  said  to  myself  that  she 
should  not  want  any  help  that  I  could  give. 

She  had  raised  her  voice  on  the  last  words,  and 
her  defiant  taunt  rang  out  clear  and  loud.  It 
seemed  to  alarm  Vlacho. 

"  Hush,  not  so  loud  !  "  he  said  hastily.  There 
was  the  hint  of  a  threat  in  his  voice. 

"Not  so  loud!"  she  echoed.  "  And  why  not 
so  loud?  Is  there  harm  in  what  I  say  ?" 

I  wondered  at  Vlacho's  'sudden  fright.  The 
idea  shot  into  my  head — and  the  idea  was  no 
pleasant  one — that  there  must  be  people  within 
earshot,  perhaps  people  who  had  not  been  trusted 
with  Constantine's  secrets,  and  would  for  that 
reason  do  his  bidding  better. 

"  Harm !     No,  no  harm  ;  but  no   need  to  let 


1 66  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

every  one  hear,"  said  Vlacho  confusedly  and  with 
evident  embarrassment. 

"  Every  one  ?     Who  is  here,  then?  " 

"  I  have  brought  one  or  two  men  to  escort  my 
Lady,"  said  he.  "  With  these  cut-throat  Eng- 
lishmen about  [Bravo,  bravo,  Vlacho  !]  one  must 
be  careful." 

A  scornful  laugh  proclaimed  her  opinion  of  his 
subterfuge,  and  she  met  him  with  a  skilful  thrust. 

"  But  if  they  don't  know — yes,  and  aren't  to 
know,  that  I  am  the  wife  of  Constantine,  how 
can  I  go  to  the  house  and  stay  with  him  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  ready  again  with  his  plausible 
half-truths,  "that  is  one  of  the  secrets.  Must  I 
tell  my  Lady  part  of  it  ?  There  is  an  excellent 
hiding-place  in  the  house,  where  my  Lord  can 
bestow  you  most  comfortably.  You  will  want 
for  nothing,  and  nobody  will  know  that  you  are 
there,  except  the  few  faithful  men  who  have 
guarded  you  here." 

"  Indeed,  if  I'm  still  to  be  a  stowaway,  I'll 
stay  here,"  said  she.  "  If  my  Lord  will  announce 
me  publicly  to  all  the  island  as  his  wife,  then  I 
will  come  and  take  my  place  at  the  head  of  his 
house.  But  without  that  I  will  not  come." 

"  Surely  you  will  be  able  to  persuade  him  to 
that  yourself,"  said  Vlacho.  "  But  dare  /  make 
conditions  with  my  Lord?" 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  167 

"You  will  make  them  in  my  name,"  she  an- 
swered. "  Go  and  tell  him  what  I  say." 

A  pause  followed.  Then  Vlacho  said  in  sullen, 
obstinate  tones, — 

"  I'll  not  go  without  you.  I  was  ordered  to 
bring  you,  and  I  will.  Come." 

I  heard  the  sudden  rustle  of  her  dress  as  she 
drew  back  ;  then  a  little  cry, — "  You're  hurting 
me." 

"  You  must  come,"  said  Vlacho.  "I  shall  call 
my  men  and  carry  you." 

"  I  will  not  come,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice, 
resolute  and  fierce. 

Vlacho  laughed.  "We'll  see  about  that,"  said 
he,  and  his  heavy  steps  sounded  on  the  floor. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  the  window  for  ? " 
she  cried. 

"To  call  Demetri  and  Kortes  to  help  me," 
said  he.  "  Or  will  you  come  ?  " 

I  drew  back  a  pace,  resting  against  the  win- 
dow-sill ;  Hogvardt's  lance  was  protruded  before 
me.  At  that  moment  I  asked  nothing  better 
than  to  bury  its  point  in  the  fat  innkeeper's  flesh. 

"You'll  repent  it  if  you  do  what  you  say," 
said  she. 

"  I  shall  repent  it  more  if  I  don't  obey  my 
Lord,"  said  Vlacho.  "  See,  my  hand  is  on  the 
curtains.  Will  you  come,  my  Lady?  " 

"  I  will  not  come,"  said  she. 


1 68  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

There  was  one  last  short  interval.  I  heard 
them  both  breathing,  and  I  held  my  own  breath. 
My  revolver  rested  in  my  pocket  ;  the  noise  of  a 
shot  would  be  fatal.  With  God's  help  I  would 
drive  the  lance  home  with  one  silent,  sufficient 
thrust.  There  would  be  a  rogue  less  in  the 
world  and  another  chance  for  her  and  me. 

"  As  you  will,  then,"  said  the  innkeeper. 

The  curtain-rings  rattled  along  the  rod  ;  the 
heavy  hangings  gave  back  ;  the  moon,  which  was 
newly  risen,  streamed  full  in  Vlacho's  eyes  and 
on  the  pale,  strained  face  behind  him.  He  saw 
me  ;  he  uttered  one  low  exclamation, — "  Christ !  " 
His  hand  flew  to  his  belt  ;  he  drew  a  pistol  out 
and  raised  it.  But  I  was  too  quick  for  him.  I 
drove  the  great  hunting-knife  on  the  end  of  the 
sapling  full  and  straight  into  his  breast.  With  a 
groan  he  flung  his  arms  over  his  head  and  fell 
sideways,  half-supported  by  the  curtain  till  the 
fabric  was  rent  away  from  the  rings  and  fell  over 
his  body,  enveloping  him  in  a  thick  pall.  I  drew 
my  lance  back.  The  force  of  the  blow  had  over- 
strained Hogvardt's  wire  fastenings  ;  the  blade 
was  bent  to  an  angle  with  the  shaft  and  shook 
loosely  from  side  to  side.  Vlacho's  blood  began 
to  curl  in  a  meandering  trickle  from  beneath  the 
curtain.  Madame  Stefanopoulos  glared  at  me, 
speechless.  But  my  eyes  fell  from  her  to  the 
floor ;  for  there  I  saw  too  long  black  shadows. 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  169 

A  sudden  and  desperate  inspiration  seized  me. 
She  was  my  ally ;  I  hers :  if  both  were  held 
guilty  of  this  act  we  could  render  no  service  to 
each  other.  If  she  were  still  unsuspected — and 
nobody  except  myself  had  heard  her  talk  with 
Vlacho — she  might  yet  help  herself  and  me. 

"Throw  me  over,"  I  whispered  in  English. 
"  Cry  for  help." 

"What?" 

"Cry.  The  men  are  there.  You  may  help 
me  afterwards." 

"  What,  pretend— 

"  Yes.     Quick." 

"  But  they'll— 

"  No,  no.     Quick,  for  God's  sake,  quick." 

"  God  help  us,"  she  whispered.  Then  she 
cried  loudly,  "  Help,  help,  help  !  " 

I  sprang  towards  her.  There  was  the  crash  of  a 
man  leaping  through  the  open  window.  I  turned. 
Behind  him  I  saw  Demetri  standing  in  the  moon- 
light. Other  figures  hurried  up  ;  feet  pattered 
on  the  hard  ground.  The  man  who  had  leaped 
in — a  very  tall,  handsome,  and  athletic  fellow, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  before — held  to  my  head  a 
long  old-fashioned  pistol.  I  let  my  hands  drop 
to  my  side  and  faced  him  with  a  smile  on  my 
lips.  It  must  be  death  to  resist, — death  to  me 
and  death  to  my  new  friend ;  surrender  might 
open  a  narrow  way  of  safety. 


170  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  yield,"  said  I. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  I  am  Lord  Wheatley,"  I  answered. 

"  But  did  you  not  fly  to  the ?  "    He  stopped. 

"  To  the  passage  ?  "  said  I.  "  No,  I  came  here. 
I  was  trying  to  escape.  I  came  in  while  Madame 
here  was  asleep  and  hid  behind  the  curtain." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  she.  "  It  is  so,  Kortes,  it  is 
as  he  says  ;  and  then  Vlacho  came " 

"And,"  said  I,  "when  the  lady  had  agreed  to 
go  with  Vlacho,  Vlacho  came  to  the  window  to 
call  you  ;  and  by  misadventure,  sir,  he  came  on 
me  behind  the  curtain.  And — won't  you  see 
whether  he's  dead  ?  " 

"  Kill  him,  Kortes,  kill  him  !  "  cried  Demetri, 
fiercely  and  suddenly,  from  the  window. 

Kortes  turned  round. 

"  Peace  !  "  said  he.  "  The  man  has  yielded. 
Do  I  kill  men  who  have  yielded  ?  The  Lady  of 
the  island  and  my  Lord  Constantine  must  decide 
his  fate ;  it  is  not  my  office.  Are  you  armed, 
sir?  " 

It  went  to  my  heart  to  give  up  that  last  trea- 
sured shot  of  mine.  But  he  was  treating  me  as 
an  honourable  man.  I  handed  him  my  revolver 
with  a  bow,  saying, — 

"  I  depend  on  you  to  protect  me  from  that 
fellow  and  the  rest  till  you  deliver  me  to  those 
you  speak  of." 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  171 

"  In  my  charge  you  are  safe,"  said  Kortes, 
and  he  stooped  down  and  lifted  the  curtain  from 
Vlacho's  face.  The  innkeeper  stirred  and 
groaned.  He  was  not  dead  yet.  Kortes  turned 
round  to  Demetri. 

"  Stay  here  and  tend  him.  Do  what  you  can 
for  him.  When  I  am  able,  I  will  send  aid  to 
him.  But  I  don't  think  he  will  live." 

Demetri  scowled.  He  seemed  not  to  like  the 
part  assigned  to  him. 

"  Are  you  going  to  take  this  man  to  my  Lord 
Constantine?"  he  asked.  "  Leave  another  with 
Vlacho,  and  let  me  come  with  you  to  my  Lord." 

"  Who  should  better  stay  with  Vlacho  than  his 
nephew  Demetri  ?  "  asked  Kortes  with  a  smile. 
(This  relationship  was  a  new  light  to  me.)  "  I 
am  going  to  do  what  my  duty  is.  Come,  no 
questioning.  Do  not  I  command,  now  Vlacho  is 
wounded  ?  " 

"  And  the  lady  here  ?  "  asked  Demetri. 

"  I  am  not  ordered  to  lay  a  finger  on  the  lady," 
answered  Kortes.  "  Indeed  I  don't  know  who 
she  is." 

Francesca  interposed  with  great  dignity, — 

"  I  will  come  with  you,"  said  she.  "  I  have 
my  story  to  tell  when  this  gentleman  is  put  on 
his  trial.  Who  I  am  you  will  know  soon." 

Demetri  had  climbed  in  at  the  window.  He 
passed  me  with  a  savage  scowl,  and  I  noticed 


172  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

that  one  side  of  his  head  was  bound  with  a 
bloodstained  bandage.  He  saw  me  looking  at 
it. 

"  Aye,"  he  growled,  "  I  owe  you  the  loss  of 
half  an  ear." 

"  In  the  passage?  "  I  hazarded,  much  pleased. 

"  I  shall  pay  the  debt,"  said  he,  "  or  see  it 
paid  handsomely  for  me  by  my  Lord." 

"  Come,"  said  Kortes.     "  Let  us  go." 

Fully  believing  that  the  fact  of  Kortes  being 
in  command  instead  of  Demetri  had  saved  me 
from  instant  death,  I  was  not  inclined  to  dispute 
his  orders.  I  walked  out  of  the  house  and  took 
the  place  he  indicated  to  me  in  the  middle  of  a 
line  of  islanders,  some  ten  or  twelve  in  number. 
Kortes  placed  himself  by  my  side,  and  Madame 
Stefanopoulos  walked  on  his  other  hand.  The 
islanders  maintained  absolute  silence.  I  followed 
their  example,  but  my  heart  (I  must  confess)  beat 
as  I  waited  to  see  in  what  direction  our  column 
was  to  march.  We  started  down  the  hill  towards 
the  house.  If  we  were  going  to  the  house,  I  had 
perhaps  twenty  minutes  to  live ;  and  the  lady 
who  was  with  us  would  not  long  survive  me.  In 
vain  I  scanned  Kortes's  comely,  grave  features. 
He  marched  with  the  impassive  regularity  of  a 
grenadier  and  displayed  much  the  same  expres- 
sionless steadiness  of  face.  Nearer  to  the  fatal 
house  we  came.  But  my  heart  gave  a  sudden 


Hats  off  to  St.  Tryphon!  173 

leap  of  hope  and  excitement,  for  Kortes  cried 
softly,  "To  the  right."  We  turned  down  the 
path  that  led  up  from  the  town,  leaving  the 
house  on  the  left.  We  were  not  going  straight 
to  death,  then,  and  every  respite  was  pregnant 
with  unforeseen  chances  of  escape.  I  touched 
Kortes  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Where  are  we  going?  "  I  asked. 

"  To  the  town,"  he  answered. 

Again  in  silence  we  pursued  our  way  down  the 
hillside.  The  path  broadened,  and  the  incline 
became  less  steep ;  a  few  lights  twinkled  from 
the  sea,  which  now  spread  before  us.  Still  we 
went  on.  Then  I  heard  the  bell  of  a  church  strike 
twelve.  The  strokes  ended,  but  another  bell 
began  to  ring.  Our  escort  stopped  with  one  ac- 
cord. They  took  off  their  caps  and  signed  the 
cross  on  their  breasts.  Kortes  did  the  same  as 
the  rest.  I  looked  at  him  in  question,  but  he 
said  nothing  till  the  caps  were  replaced  and  we 
were  on  our  way  again.  Then  he  said, — 

"  To-day  is  the  feast  of  Saint  Tryphon. 
Didn't  you  know  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I.  "  Saint  Tryphon  I  know,  but 
his  feast  is  not  kept  always  on  this  day." 

"Always  on  this  day  in  Neopalia,"  he  an- 
swered, and  he  seemed  to  look  at  me  as  though 
he  were  asking  me  some  unspoken  question. 

The  feast  of  St.  Tryphon  might  have  interested 


174  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

me  very  much  at  any  ordinary  time,  but  just 
now  my  study  of  the  customs  of  the  islanders 
had  been  directed  into  another  channel,  and  I 
did  not  pursue  the  subject.  Kortes  walked  in 
silence  some  little  way  farther.  We  had  now 
reached  the  main  road  and  were  descending  rap- 
idly towards  the  town.  I  saw  again  the  steep, 
narrow  street,  empty  and  still  in  the  moonlight. 
We  held  on  our  way  till  we  came  to  a  rather 
large  square  building  which  stood  back  from  the 
road  and  had  thus  escaped  my  notice  when  we 
passed  it  on  the  evening  of  our  arrival.  Before 
this  Kortes  halted.  "  Here  you  must  lodge  with 
me,"  said  he.  "  Concerning  the  lady  I  have  no 
orders." 

Madame  Stefanopoulos  caught  my  arm. 

"  I  must  stay  too,"  said  she.     "  I  can't  go  back 
to  my  house." 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Kortes  calmly.     "  There  are 
two  rooms." 

The  escort  ranged  themselves  outside  the 
building,  which  appeared  to  be  either  a  sort  of 
barrack  or  a  place  of  confinement.  We  three  en- 
tered. At  a  sign  from  Kortes,  Madame  Stefan- 
opoulos passed  into  a  large  room  on  the  right. 
I  followed  him  into  a  smaller  room,  scantily 
furnished,  and  flung  myself  in  exhaustion  on  a 
wooden  bench  that  ran  along  the  wall.  For  an 
instant  Kortes  stood  regarding  me.  His  face 


Hats  off  to  St«  Tryphon!  175 

seemed  to  express  hesitation,  but  the  look  in  his 
eyes  was  not  unfriendly.  The  bell,  which  had 
continued  to  ring  till  now,  ceased.  Then  Kortes 
said  to  me  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  Take  courage,  my  lord.  For  a  day  you  are 
safe.  Not  even  Constantine  would  dare  to  kill  a 
man  on  the  feast  of  Saint  Tryphon." 

Before  I  could  answer  he  was  gone.  I  heard 
the  bolt  of  the  door  run  home.  I  was  a  pri- 
soner. 

Yet  I  took  courage,  as  he  bade  me.  Four-and- 
twenty  hours'  life  was  more  than  I  had  been  able 
to  count  on  for  some  time  past.  So  I  also  doffed 
my  hat  in  honour  of  the  holy  St.  Tryphon. 
And  presently  I  lifted  my  legs  on  the  bench, 
took  off  my  coat  and  made  a  pillow  of  it,  and 
went  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  X. 
The  Justice  of  the  Island* 

HELPLESSNESS  brings  its  own  peculiar  conso- 
lation. After  a  week's  planning  and  scheming 
what  you  will  do  to  the  enemy,  it  is  a  kind  of  re- 
lief to  sit  with  hands  in  pockets  and  wonder  what 
the  enemy  may  be  pleased  to  do  with  you. 
This  relaxation  was  vouchsafed  to  my  brain 
when  I  awoke  in  the  morning  and  found  the  sun 
streaming  into  the  whitewashed  cell-like  room. 
It  was  the  feast  of  St.  Tryphon,  all  praise  to  him  ! 
Kortes  said  that  I  could  not  be  executed  that 
day.  I  doubted  Constantine's  scruples,  yet  pro- 
bably he  would  not  venture  to  outrage  the  popu- 
lar sentiment  of  Neopalia.  But  nothing  forbade 
my  execution  to-morrow.  Well,  to-morrow  is 
to-morrow,  and  to-day  is  to-day,  and  there  will 
be  that  difference  between  them  so  long  as  the 
world  lasts.  I  stretched  myself  and  yawned  lux- 
uriously. I  was,  strangely  enough,  in  a  hopeful 
frame  of  mind.  I  made  sure  that  Denny  had 
found  his  way  safely,  and  that  the  Cypriote 
fishermen  had  been  benevolent.  I  proved  to  my- 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  177 

self  that  with  Constantine's  exposure  his  power 
would  end.  I  plumed  myself  on  having  put  Vla- 
cho  hors  du  combat.  I  believe  I  said  to  myself 
that  villainy  would  not  triumph,  that  honest  men 
would  come  by  their  own,  and  that  unprotected 
beauty  would  find  help  from  heaven :  convic- 
tions which  showed  that  relics  of  youth  hung 
about  me  and  (I  am  afraid  it  depends  on  this 
rather)  that  I  was  feeling  very  well  after  my  re- 
freshing sleep. 

Alas,  my  soothing  reveries  were  rudely  inter- 
rupted ! 

"  At  a  touch  sweet  pleasure  melteth, 
Like  to  bubbles  when  rain  pelteth  ! " 

And  at  the  sound  of  a  gruff  voice  outside,  my 
dreams  melted ;  harsh  reality  was  pressing  hard 
on  me  again,  crushing  hope  into  resignation, 
buoyancy  into  a  grim  resolve  to  take  what  came 
with  courage. 

"Bring  him  out,"  cried  the  voice. 

"  It's  that  brute  Demetri,"  said  I  to  myself, 
wondering  what  had  become  of  my  friendly 
gaoler  Kortes. 

A  moment  later  half-a-dozen  men  filed  into  the 
room,  Demetri  at  their  head.  I  asked  him  what 
he  wanted.  He  answered  only  with  a  command 
that  I  should  get  up.  "  Bring  him  along,"  he 


178  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

added  to  his  men ;  and  we  walked  out  into  the 
street. 

Evidently  Neopalia  was  en  fete.  The  houses 
were  decked  with  flags ;  several  windows  exhi- 
bited pictures  of  the  Saint;  women  in  their  gay 
and  spotlessly  clean  holiday  attire  strolled  along 
the  road,  holding  their  children  by  the  hand. 
Everybody  made  way  for  our  procession,  many 
whispers  and  pointed  fingers  proving  the  interest 
and  curiosity  which  it  was  my  unwilling  privilege 
to  arouse.  For  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  we 
mounted  the  road,  then  we  turned  suddenly 
down  to  the  left  and  began  to  descend  again  to- 
wards the  sea.  Soon  now  we  arrived  at  the 
little  church  whose  bell  I  had  heard.  Here  we 
halted ;  and  presently  another  procession  ap- 
peared from  the  building.  An  old  white-bearded 
man  headed  it,  carrying  a  large  picture  of  St. 
Tryphon ;  the  old  man's  dress  was  little  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  rest  of  the  islanders,  but  he 
wore  the  gown  and  cap  of  a  priest.  He  was 
followed  by  some  attendants  ;  the  women  and 
children  fell  in  behind  him  ;  three  or  four  cripples 
brought  up  the  rear,  praying  as  they  went  and 
stretching  out  their  hands  towards  the  sacred 
picture  which  the  old  man  carried.  At  a  sign 
from  Demetri  we  also  put  ourselves  in  motion 
again,  and  the  whole  body  of  us  thus  made  for 
the  seashore.  But  some  three  hundred  yards 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  179 

short  of  the  water  I  perceived  a  broad  level  space, 
covered  with  short  rough  turf,  and  surrounded 
for  about  half  its  circuit  by  a  crescent-shaped 
bank  two  or  three  feet  high.  On  this  bank  sat 
some  twenty  people,  and  crowded  in  front  of  it 
was  the  same  ragged,  picturesque  company  of 
armed  peasants  that  I  had  seen  gather  in  the 
street  on  the  occasion  of  our  arrival.  The  old 
man  with  the  picture  made  his  way  to  the  centre 
of  the  level  ground.  Thrice  he  raised  the  picture 
towards  the  sky,  every  one  uncovering  his  head 
and  kneeling  down  the  while.  He  began  to  pray, 
but  I  did  not  listen  to  what  he  said ;  for  by  this 
time  my  attention  had  wandered  from  him  and 
was  fixed  intently  on  a  small  group  which  occu- 
pied the  centre  of  the  raised  bank.  There,  sit- 
ting side  by  side,  with  the  space  of  a  foot  or  so 
between  them,  were  Phroso  and  her  cousin  Con- 
stantine.  On  a  rude  hurdle,  covered  with  a  rug, 
at  Constantine's  feet,  lay  Vlacho,  his  face  pale 
and  his  eyes  closed.  Behind  Phroso  stood  my 
new  acquaintance,  Kortes,  with  one  hand  on  the 
knife  in  his  girdle  and  the  other  holding  a  long 
gun  which  rested  on  the  ground.  One  figure  I 
missed.  I  looked  round  for  Constantine's  wife, 
but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Then  I  looked 
again  at  Phroso.  She  was  dressed  in  rich,  fine 
garments  of  white,  profusely  embroidered;  but 
her  face  was  paler  even  than  Vlacho's,  and  when  I 


180  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

sought  her  eyes  she  would  not  meet  mine,  but 
kept  her  gaze  persistently  lowered.  Constantine 
sat  motionless,  with  a  frown  on  his  brow,  but  a 
slight  smile  on  his  lips,  as  he  waited  with  an  obvi- 
ously forced  patience  through  the  long  rigmarole 
of  the  old  man's  prayer. 

Evidently  important  business  was  to  be  tran- 
sacted, yet  nobody  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry  to 
arrive  at  it.  When  the  old  priest  had  finished 
his  prayers  the  cripples  came  and  prostrated 
themselves  before  the  sacred  picture.  No  mira- 
cle, however,  followed ;  and  the  priest  took  up 
the  tale  again,  pouring  forth  a  copious  harangue, 
in  which  I  detected  frequent  references  to  "  the 
barbarians," — a  term  he  used  to  denote  my 
friends,  myself,  and  all  the  world,  apparently,  ex- 
cept the  islanders  of  Neopalia.  Then  he  seated 
himself  between  Phroso  and  Constantine,  who 
made  room  for  him.  I  was  surprised  to  see  him 
assume  so  much  dignity,  but  I  presumed  that  he 
was  treated  with  exceptional  honour  on  the  feast- 
day.  When  he  had  taken  his  place,  about  twenty 
of  the  men  came  into  the  middle  of  the  ring  and 
began  to  dance,  arranging  themselves  in  a  semi- 
circle, moving  at  first  in  slow  rhythmical  steps 
and  gradually  quickening  their  motions  till  they 
ended  with  a  wonderful  display  of  activity.  Dur- 
ing this  performance  Phroso  and  Constantine  sat 
still  and  impassive,  while  Vlacho's  lifeless  face  was 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  181 

scorched  by  the  growing  heat  of  the  sun.  The 
men  who  had  been  told  off  to  watch  me  leaned 
on  their  long  guns,  and  I  wondered  wearily  when 
my  part  in  this  strangely  mixed  ceremony  was 
to  begin. 

At  last  it  came.  The  dance  ended,  the  per- 
formers flung  themselves  fatigued  on  the  turf, 
there  was  a  hush  of  expectation,  and  the  sur- 
rounding crowd  of  women  and  children  drew 
closer  in  towards  where  the  rest  of  the  men  had 
taken  up  their  position  in  ranks  on  either  side  of 
the  central  seats.  "  Step  forward,"  said  one  of 
my  guards,  and  I,  obeying  him,  lifted  my  hat  and 
bowed  to  Phroso.  Then,  replacing  my  hat,  I  stood 
waiting  the  pleasure  of  the  assembly.  All  eyes 
were  fixed  on  Constantine,  who  remained  seated 
and  silent  yet  a  little  while  longer.  Then  he  rose 
slowly  to  his  feet,  bowed  to  Phroso,  and  pointed 
in  a  melodramatic  fashion  at  Vlacho's  body.  But 
I  was  not  in  the  least  inclined  to  listen  to  an 
oration  in  the  manner  of  Mark  Antony  over  the 
body  of  Caesar,  and  just  as  Constantine  was 
opening  his  mouth  I  observed  loudly,— 

"Yes,  I  killed  him,  and  the  reason  no  man 
knows  better  than  Constantine  Stefanopoulos." 

Constantine  glared  at  me,  and,  ignoring  the 
bearing  of  my  remark,  launched  out  on  an  eulo- 
gium  of  the  dead  innkeeper.  It  was  coldly  re- 
ceived. Vlacho's  virtues  were  not  recognised 


1 82  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

by  any  outburst  of  grief  or  indignation  ;  indeed 
there  was  a  smothered  laugh  or  two  when  Con- 
stantine  called  him  "  a  brave,  true  man."  The 
orator  detected  his  failure  and  shifted  his  ground 
dexterously,  passing  on  in  rapid  transition  to  ask 
in  what  quarrel  Vlacho  had  died.  Now  he  was 
gripping  his  audience;  they  drew  closer;  they 
became  very  still ;  angry  and  threatening  glances 
were  bent  on  me.  Constantine  lashed  himself  to 
fury  as  he  cried,  "  He  died  for  our  island,  which 
this  barbarian  claims  as  his  !  " 

"  He  died "  I  began  ;  but  a  heavy  hand  on 

my  shoulder  and  the  menace  of  a  knife  cut  short 
my  protest.  Demetri  had  come  and  taken  his 
stand  by  me,  and  I  knew  that  Demetri  would 
jump  at  the  first  excuse  to  make  my  silence 
perpetual.  So  I  held  my  peace,  and  the  men 
caught  up  Constantine's  last  point,  crying  angrily, 
"Aye,  he  takes  our  island  from  us." 

"  Yes,"  said  Constantine,  "  he  has  taken  our  is- 
land, and  he  claims  it  for  his  ;  he  has  killed  our 
brethren  and  put  our  Lady  out  of  her  inheri- 
tance. What  shall  he  suffer?  For  although  we 
may  not  kill  on  Saint  Tryphon's  day,  we  may 
judge  on  it,  and  the  sentence  may  be  performed 
at  daybreak  to-morrow.  What  shall  this  man 
suffer?  Is  he  not  worthy  of  death  ?  " 

It  was  what  lawyers  call  a  leading  question, 
and  it  found  its  expected  answer  in  a  deep,  fierce 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  183 

growl  of  "Death,  death!"  Clearly  the  island 
was  the  thing,  Vlacho's  death  merely  an  inci- 
dental affair  of  no  great  importance.  I  sup- 
pose that  Phroso  understood  this  as  well  as  I, 
for  now  she  rose  suddenly.  Constantine  seemed 
disinclined  to  suffer  the  interruption,  but  she 
stood  her  ground  firmly,  though  her  face  was 
very  pale,  and  I  saw  her  hands  tremble.  At  last 
he  sank  back  on  to  the  bank. 

"Why  this  turmoil?"  she  asked.  "The 
stranger  did  not  know  our  customs.  Rethought 
that  the  island  was  his  by  right,  and  when  he  was 
attacked  he  defended  himself.  I  pray  you  may 
all  fight  as  bravely  as  he  has  fought." 

"  But  the  island,  the  island  !  "  they  cried. 

"Yes,"  said  she,  "I  also  love  the  island. 
Well,  he  has  given  back  the  island  to  me.  Be- 
hold his  writing !  "  She  held  up  the  paper 
which  I  had  given  to  her,  and  read  the  writing 
aloud  in  a  clear  voice.  "  What  have  you  against 
him  now  ?  "  she  asked.  "  His  people  have  loved 
the  Hellenes.  He  has  given  back  the  island. 
Why  shall  he  not  depart  in  peace  ?" 

The  effect  was  great.  The  old  priest  seized 
the  paper  and  scanned  it  eagerly  ;  it  was  snatched 
from  him  and  passed  rapidly  from  hand  to  hand, 
greeted  with  surprised  murmurs  and  intense  ex- 
citement. Phroso  stood  watching  its  progress ; 
Constantine  sat  with  a  heavy  scowl  on  his  face, 


1 84  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

and  the  frown  grew  yet  deeper  when  I  smiled  at 
him  with  pleasant  urbanity. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  priest  with  a  sigh  of 
relief.  "  He  has  given  back  the  island  ;  he  need 
not  die." 

Phroso  sat  down ;  a  sudden  faintness  seemed 
to  follow  on  the  strain,  and  I  saw  Kortes  support 
her  with  his  arm.  But  Constantine  was  not 
beaten  yet.  He  sprang  up  and  cried  in  bitterly 
scornful  tones, — 

"  Aye,  let  him  go — let  him  go  to  Rhodes  and 
tell  the  Governor  that  you  sought  to  slay  him 
and  his  friends ;  and  that  you  extorted  the  paper 
from  him  by  threat  of  death ;  and  that  he  gave 
it  in  fear,  but  did  not  mean  it ;  and  that  you  are 
turbulent,  murderous  men  who  deserve  great 
punishment.  How  guileless  you  are,  O  Neopa- 
lians  !  But  this  man  is  not  guileless.  He  can 
delude  a  girl.  He  can  delude  you  also,  it  seems. 
Aye,  let  him  go  with  his  story  to  the  Governor 
at  Rhodes — and  do  you  hide  in  the  rocks  when 
the  Governor  comes  with  his  soldiers!  Hide 
yourselves,  and  hide  your  women,  when  the  sol- 
diers come  to  set  this  man  over  your  island  and 
to  punish  you  !  Do  you  not  remember  when  the 
Governor  came  before  ?  Is  not  the  mark  of  his 
anger  branded  on  your  hearts  ?  " 

Hesitation  and  suspicion  were  aroused  again 
by  this  appeal.  Phroso  seemed  bewildered  at  it, 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  185 

and  gazed  at  her  cousin  with  parted  lips.  Angry 
glances  were  again  fixed  on  me.  But  the  old 
priest  rose,  and  stretched  out  his  hand  for 
silence. 

"  Let  the  man  speak  for  himself,"  he  said. 
"  Let  him  tell  us  what  he  will  do  if  we  set  him 
free.  It  may  be  that  he  will  give  us  an  oath  not 
to  harm  us,  but  to  go  away  peaceably  to  his  own 
land  and  leave  us  our  island.  Speak,  sir.  We 
will  listen." 

I  was  never  much  of  a  hand  at  a  speech,  and  I 
did  not  enjoy  being  faced  with  the  necessity  of 
making  one  which  might  have  such  important 
results  this  way  or  that.  But  I  was  quite  clear 
in  my  own  mind  what  I  wanted  to  say ;  so  I 
took  a  step  forward,  and  began. 

"  I  bear  you  Neopalians  no  malice,"  said  I. 
"You've  not  succeeded  in  hurting  me,  and  I  sup- 
pose you've  not  caught  my  friends,  or  they  would 
be  here,  prisoners  as  I  am  a  prisoner.  Now  I 
have  killed  two  good  men  of  yours,  Vlacho  there 
and  Spiro.  I  am  content  with  that.  I'll  cry 
you  quits.  I  have  given  back  the  island  to  the 
Lady  Euphrosyne  ;  and  what  I  give  to  a  woman 
— aye,  or  to  a  man — I  do  not  ask  again  either  of 
a  governor  or  of  anybody  else.  Therefore  your 
island  is  safe,  and  I  will  swear  to  that  by  what 
oath  you  will.  And,  so  far  as  I  have  power,  no 
man  or  woman  of  all  who  stand  round  me  shall 


i86  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

come  to  any  harm  by  reason  of  what  has  been 
done  ;  and  to  that  also  I  will  swear." 

They  had  heard  me  intently,  and  they  nodded 
in  assent  and  approbation  when  the  old  priest,  true 
to  his  part  of  peacemaker,  looking  round,  said, — 

"  He  speaks  well.  He  will  not  do  what  my 
Lord  feared.  He  will  give  us  an  oath.  Why 
should  he  not  depart  in  peace  ?  " 

Phroso's  eyes  sought  mine,  and  she  smiled  sadly. 
Constantine  wras  gnawing  his  finger-nails  and 
looking  as  sour  as  a  man  could  look.  It  went  to 
my  heart  to  go  on,  for  I  knew  that  what  I  had  to 
say  next  would  give  him  another  chance  against 
me,  but  I  preferred  that  risk  to  the  only  alter- 
native. 

"  Wait,"  said  I.  "  An  oath  is  a  sacred  thing, 
and  I  swore  an  oath  when  I  was  there  in  the 
house  of  the  Stefanopouloi.  There  is  a  man  here 
who  has  done  murder  on  an  old  man  his  kinsman, 
who  has  contrived  murder  against  a  woman,  who 
has  foully  deceived  a  girl.  With  that  man  I'll 
not  cry  quits.  For  I  swore  that  I  would  not  rest 
till  he  paid  the  penalty  of  his  crimes.  By  that 
oath  I  stand.  Therefore  when  I  go  from  here  I 
shall,  as  Constantine  Stefan opoulos  has  said,  go 
to  Rhodes  and  to  the  Governor,  and  I  shall  pray 
him  to  send  here  to  Neopalia,  and  take  that  one 
man  and  hang  him  on  the  highest  tree  in  the 
island.  And  I  will  come  with  the  Governor's 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  187 

men  and  see  that  thing  done.  Then  I  will  go 
peaceably  to  my  own  land." 

There  was  a  pause  of  surprise.  Constantine 
lifted  his  lids  and  looked  at  me  ;  I  saw  his  hand 
move  towards  a  pocket — I  suspected  what  lay 
in  that  pocket ;  I  heard  low,  eager  whisperings 
and  questions.  At  last  the  old  priest  asked  in 
a  timid,  hesitating  voice, — 

"Who  is  this  man  of  whom  you  speak?" 

"  There  he  is,"  said  I.  "  There — Constantine 
Stefanopoulos." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  when  Demetri 
clapped  a  large  hairy  hand  across  my  mouth,  whis- 
pering fiercely,  "  Hold  your  tongue."  I  drew 
back  a  step  and  struck  him  fairly  between  the 
eyes.  He  went  down  ;  a  hoarse  cry  rose  from 
the  crowd ;  but  in  an  instant  Kortes  had  leaped 
from  where  he  stood  behind  Phroso  and  was  by 
my  side.  I  had  some  adherents  also  among  the 
bystanders  ;  for  I  had  been  bidden  to  speak  freely, 
and  Demetri  had  no  authority  to  silence  me. 

"  Yes,  Constantine  Stefanopoulos,"  I  cried. 
"  Did  he  not  stab  the  old  man  after  he  had 
yielded  ?  Did  he  not ?  " 

"The  old  man  sold  the  island,"  growled  a 
dozen  low,  fierce  voices  ;  but  the  priest's  rose  high 
above  them. 

"  We  are  not  here  to  judge  my  Lord  Constan- 
tine," said  he,  "  but  this  man  here." 


1 88  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  We  all  had  a  hand  in  the  business  of  the  old 
man,"  said  Demetri,  who  had  picked  himself  up 
and  was  looking  very  vicious. 

"  You  lie,  and  you  know  it,"  said  I  hotly.  "  He 
had  yielded,  and  the  rest  had  left  off  attacking 
him.  But  Constantine  stabbed  him.  Why  did 
he  stab  him  ?  " 

There  came  no  answer,  and  Constantine  caught 
at  this  advantage. 

"  Yes,"  he  cried.  "  Why?  Why  should  I  stab 
him  ?  He  was  stabbed  by  some  one  who  did  not 
know  that  he  had  yielded."  Then  I  saw  his  eye 
fall  suddenly  on  Vlacho.  Dead  men  tell  no  tales 
and  deny  no  accusations. 

"  Since  Vlacho  is  dead,"  Constantine  went  on 
with  wonderful  readiness,  "  my  tongue  is  loosed. 
It  was  Vlacho  who  in  his  hasty  zeal  stabbed  the 
old  man." 

He  had  gained  a  point  by  this  clever  lie,  and 
he  made  haste  to  press  it  to  the  full  against  me. 

"  This  man,"  he  exclaimed,  "will  go  to  Rhodes 
and  denounce  me  !  But  did  I  kill  the  old  man 
alone?  Did  I  besiege  the  Englishman  alone? 
Will  the  Governor  be  content  with  one  victim  ? 
Is  it  not  one  head  in  ten  when  he  comes  to  pun- 
ish? Men  of  the  island,  it  is  your  lives  and  my 
life  against  this  man's  life  !  " 

They  were  with  him  again,  and  many  shouted, 

"Let  him  die!     Let  him  die!" 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  189 

Then  suddenly,  before  I  could  speak,  Phroso 
rose,  and,  stretching  out  her  hands  towards  me, 
said, — 

"  Promise  what  they  ask,  my  lord.  Save  your 
own  life,  my  lord.  If  my  cousin  be  guilty, 
heaven  will  punish  him." 

But  I  did  not  listen  even  to  her.  With  a  sud- 
den leap  I  was  free  from  those  who  held  me  ;  for 
in  the  ranks  of  listening  women  I  saw  that  old 
woman  whom  we  had  found  watching  by  the 
dying  Lord  of  the  island.  I  seized  her  by  the 
wrist  and  dragged  her  into  the  middle,  crying  to 
her, — 

"  As  God's  above  you,  tell  the  truth.  Who 
stabbed  the  old  Lord  ?  Whose  name  did  he  ut- 
ter in  reproach  when  he  lay  dying?" 

She  stood  shivering  and  trembling  in  the  centre 
of  the  throng.  The  surprise  of  my  sudden  ac- 
tion held  them  all  silent  and  motionless. 

"  Did  he  not  say  '  Constantine !  You,  Constan- 
tine!'?"  I  asked.  "Just  before  he  died?" 

The  old  woman's  lips  moved,  but  no  sound 
came  ;  she  was  half  dead  with  fear,  and  fastened 
fascinated  eyes  on  Constantine.  He  surveyed 
her  with  a  rigid  smile  on  his  pale  face. 

"  Speak  the  truth,  woman,"  I  cried.  "  Speak 
the  truth." 

"  Yes,  speak  the  truth,"  said  Constantine,  his 
eyes  gleaming  in  triumph  as  he  turned  a  glance 


1 90  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

of  hatred  on  me.  "  Tell  us  truly  who  killed  my 
uncle." 

My  witness  failed  me.  The  terror  of  Constan- 
tine,  which  had  locked  her  tongue  when  I  ques- 
tioned her  at  the  house,  lay  on  her  still ;  the 
single  word  that  came  from  her  trembling  lips 
was  "  Vlacho."  Constantine  gave  a  cry  of  tri- 
umph, Demetri  a  wild  shout  ;  the  islanders  drew 
together;  my  chance  looked  black.  Even  St. 
Tryphon  would  hardly  save  me  from  immediate 
death.  But  I  made  another  effort. 

"  Swear  her  on  the  sacred  picture,"  I  cried. 
"  Swear  her  on  the  picture  ;  if  she  swears  by  the 
picture  and  then  says  it  was  Vlacho,  I  am  con- 
tent to  die  as  a  false  accuser  and  to  die  here  and 
now." 

My  bold  challenge  won  me  a  respite  ;  it  ap- 
pealed to  their  rude  sense  of  justice  and  their 
strong  leaven  of  superstition. 

"Yes,  let  her  swear  on  the  sacred  picture," 
cried  several.  "  Then  we  shall  know." 

The  priest  brought  the  picture  to  her,  and  swore 
her  on  it  with  great  solemnity.  She  shook  her 
head  feebly  and  fell  to  choked  weeping.  But  the 
men  round  her  were  resolute,  one  of  them  men- 
acing even  Constantine  himself  when  he  began  to 
ask  whether  her  first  testimony  were  not  enough. 

"  Now  you  are  sworn — speak,"  said  the  priest 
solemnly. 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  191 

A  hush  fell  on  us  all.  If  she  answered  "  Con- 
stantine,"  my  life  still  hung  by  a  thread  ;  but  by 
saying  "  Vlacho  "  she  would  cut  the  thread.  She 
looked  at  me,  at  Constantine,  then  up  to  the  sky, 
while  her  lips  moved  in  rapid  whispered  prayers. 

"  Speak,"  said  the  priest  to  her  gently. 

Then  she  spoke  in  low  fearful  tones, — 

"  Vlacho  was  there,  and  his  knife  was  ready. 
But  my  Lord  yielded,  and  cried  that  he  would 
not  sell  the  island.  When  they  heard  that,  they 
drew  back,  Vlacho  with  the  rest.  But  my  Lord 
Constantine  struck  ;  and  when  my  Lord  lay  dy- 
ing it  was  the  name  of  Constantine  that  he  ut- 
tered in  reproach."  And  the  old  woman  reeled, 
and  would  have  fallen,  and  then  flung  herself  on 
the  ground  at  Constantine's  feet,  crying  "  Pardon, 
my  Lord,  pardon !  I  could  not  swear  falsely  on 
the  picture.  Ah,  my  Lord,  mercy,  mercy  !  " 

But  Constantine,  though  he  had,  as  I  do  not 
doubt,  a  good  memory  for  offences,  could  not  af- 
ford to  think  of  the  old  woman  now.  One  in- 
stant he  sat  still ;  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
crying,— 

"  Let  my  friends  come  round  me  !  Yes,  if  you 
will,  I  killed  the  old  man.  Was  not  the  deed 
done?  Was  not  the  island  sold?  Was  he  not 
bound  to  this  man  here  ?  The  half  of  the  money 
had  been  paid  !  If  he  lived,  and  if  this  man  had 
lived,  they  would  have  brought  soldiers  and  con- 


192  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

strained  us.  So  I  slew  him  ;  and  therefore  I 
have  sought  to  kill  the  stranger  also.  Who 
blames  me  ?  If  there  be  any,  let  him  stand  now 
by  the  stranger,  and  let  my  friends  stand  by 
me.  Have  we  not  had  enough  talk  ?  Is  it  not 
time  to  act  ?  Who  loves  Neopalia  ?  Who  loves 
me?  " 

While  he  spoke,  many  had  been  gathering 
round  him.  With  every  fresh  appeal  more 
flocked  to  him.  There  were  but  three  or  four  left 
now,  wavering  between  him  and  me,  and  Kortes 
alone  stood  by  my  side. 

"  Are  you  children,  that  you  shrink  from  me 
because  I  struck  a  blow  for  our  country  ?  Was 
the  old  man  to  escape,  and  live  to  help  this  man 
to  take  our  island  ?  Yes,  I,  Constantine  Stefan- 
opoulos,  though  I  was  blood  of  his  blood — I  killed 
him.  Who  blames  me  ?  Shall  we  not  finish  the 
work  ?  There  the  stranger  stands  !  Men  of  the 
island,  shall  we  not  finish  the  work  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  come  at  last,"  thought  I  to  myself. 
St.  Tryphon  would  not  stop  it  now.  "  It's  no 
use,"  I  said  to  Kortes.  "  Don't  get  yourself  into 
trouble  !  "  Then  I  folded  my  arms  and  waited. 
But  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  did  not  turn  a 
little  pale.  Perhaps  I  did.  At  any  rate  I  con- 
trived to  show  no  fear  except  in  that. 

The  islanders  looked  at  one  another,  and  then 
at  Constantine.  Friend  Constantine  had  been 


The  Justice  of  the  Island.  193 

ready  with  his  stirring  words,  but  he  did  not  rush 
first  to  the  attack.  Besides  myself  there  was 
Kortes,  who  had  not  left  his  place  by  me,  in  spite 
of  my  invitation  to  him.  And  Kortes  looked  as 
though  he  could  give  an  account  of  one  or  two. 
But  the  hesitation  among  Constantine's  follow- 
ers did  not  last  long.  Demetri  was  no  coward  at 
all  events,  although  he  was  as  big  a  scoundrel  as 
I  have  known.  He  carried  a  great  sword  which 
he  must  have  got  from  the  collection  on  the  walls 
of  the  hall ;  he  brandished  it  now  over  his  head, 
and  rushed  straight  at  me.  It  seemed  to  be  all 
over,  and  I  thought  that  the  best  I  could  do  was 
to  take  it  quietly ;  so  I  stood  still.  But  on  a 
sudden  I  was  pulled  back  by  a  powerful  arm. 
Kortes  flung  me  behind  him  and  stood  between 
me  and  Demetri's  rush.  An  instant  later,  ten  or 
more  of  them  were  round  Kortes.  He  struck  at 
them,  but  they  dodged  him.  One  cried,  "  Don't 
hurt  Kortes,"  and  another,  running  agilely  round, 
caught  his  arms  from  behind,  and,  all  gathering 
about  him,  they  wrested  his  weapons  from  him. 
My  last  champion  was  disarmed  ;  he  had  but  pro- 
tracted the  bitterness  of  death  for  me  by  his  gal- 
lant attempt.  I  fixed  my  eyes  steadily  on  the 
horizon  and  waited.  The  time  of  my  waiting 
must  have  been  infinitesimal,  yet  I  seemed  to 
wait  some  little  while.  Then  Demetri's  great 
sword  flashed  suddenly  between  me  and  the  sky. 


194  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

But  it  did  not  fall.  Another  flash  came — the 
flash  of  white,  darting  across  between  me  and  the 
grim  figure  of  my  assailant.  And  Phroso,  pale, 
breathless,  trembling  in  every  limb,  yet  holding 
her  head  bravely,  and  with  anger  gleaming  in  her 
dark  eyes,  cried, — 

"  If  you  kill  him  you  must  kill  me  ;  I  will  not 
live  if  he  dies." 

Even  Demetri  paused  ;  the  rest  gave  back.  I 
saw  Constantine's  hatchet-face  peering  in  gloomy 
wrath  and  trembling  excitement  from  behind  the 
protecting  backs  of  his  stout  adherents.  But 
Demetri,  holding  his  sword  poised  for  the  stroke, 
growled  angrily, — 

"  What  is  his  life  to  you,  Lady  ?  " 

Phroso  drew  herself  up.  Her  face  was  away 
from  me  ;  but  as  she  spoke  I  saw  a  sudden  rush 
of  red  spread  over  her  neck;  yet  she  spoke 
steadily  and  boldly  in  a  voice  that  all  could 
hear, — 

"  His  life  is  my  life ;  for  I  love  him  as  I  love 
my  life — ah,  and  God  knows,  more,  more,  more  ! " 


CHAPTER  XL 
The  Last  Card, 

IN  most  families — at  least  among  those  that 
have  any  recorded  history  to  boast  of  or  to  de- 
plore— there  is  a  point  of  family  pride.  With 
one  it  is  grace  of  manner ;  with  another,  cour- 
age ;  with  a  third,  statecraft ;  with  a  fourth,  chi- 
valrous loyalty  to  a  lost  cause  or  a  fallen  prince. 
Tradition  adds  new  sanction  to  the  cherished 
excellence ;  it  becomes  the  heirloom  of  the 
house,  the  mark  of  the  race, — in  the  end,  perhaps, 
a  superstition  before  which  greater  things  go 
down  :  if  the  men  cling  to  it,  they  are  compen- 
sated by  license  in  other  matters  ;  the  women  are 
held  in  honour  if  they  bear  sons  who  do  not  fail 
in  it.  It  becomes  a  new  god  with  its  worship 
and  its  altar ;  and  often  the  altar  is  laden  with 
costly  sacrifices.  Wisdom  has  little  part  in  the 
cult,  and  the  virtues  that  are  not  hallowed  by 
hereditary  recognition  are  apt  to  go  unhonoured 
and  unpractised.  I  have  heard  it  said,  and  seen 
it  written,  that  we  Wheatleys  have,  as  a  stock, 
few  merits  and  many  faults.  I  do  not  expect  my 


i96  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

career — if,  indeed,  I  have  such  an  ambitious  thing 
as  a  career  in  my  life's  wallet — to  reverse  that 
verdict.  But  no  man  has  said  or  written  of  us 
that  we  do  not  keep  faith.  Here  is  our  pride 
and  palladium.  Promises  we  neither  break  nor 
ask  back.  We  make  them  sometimes  lightly  ;  it 
is  no  matter;  substance,  happiness,  life  itself 
must  be  spent  in  keeping  them.  I  had  learned 
this  at  my  mother's  knee.  I  myself  had  seen 
thousands  and  thousands  poured  forth  to  a 
rascally  friend  on  the  strength  of  a  schoolboy 
pledge  which  my  father  made.  "  Folly,  folly  !  " 
cried  the  world  ;  whether  it  were  right  or  not, 
who  knows  ?  We  wrapped  ourselves  in  the 
scanty  mantle  of  our  one  virtue,  and  went  our 

way.     We  always but  a  man  grows  tedious 

when  he  talks  of  his  ancestors  ;  he  is  like  a  dot- 
ing old  fellow,  garrulous  about  his  lusty  youth. 
Enough  of  it.  Yet  not  more  than  enough,  for  I 
carried  this  religion  of  mine  to  Neopalia,  and 
built  there  an  altar  to  it,  and  prepared  for  my 
altar  the  rarest  sacrifice.  Was  I  wrong?  I  do 
not  care  to  ask. 

"  His  life  is  my  life.  For  I  love  him  as  my 
life."  The  words  rang  in  my  ears,  seeming  to 
echo  again  through  the  silence  that  followed 
them  ;  they  were  answered  in  my  heart  by  beats 
of  living  blood.  "  Was  it  true  ?  "  flashed  through 
my  brain.  Was  it  truth  or  stratagem,  a  noble 


The  Last  Card*  197 

falsehood  or  a  more  splendid  boldness  ?  I  did 
not  know.  The  words  were  strange,  yet  to  me 
they  were  not  incredible.  Had  we  not  lived 
through  ages  together  in  those  brief,  full  hours 
in  the  old  grey  house  ?  And  the  parting  in  the 
quiet  evening  had  united  while  it  feigned  to 
sever.  I  believe  I  shut  my  eyes,  not  to  see  the 
slender,  stately  form  that  stood  between  death 
and  me.  When  I  looked  again,  Demetri  and  his 
angry  comrades  had  fallen  back,  and  stood  star- 
ing in  awkward  bewilderment,  but  the  women 
had  crowded  in  upon  us  with  eager,  excited  faces  ; 
one  broad-browed  kindly  creature  had  run  to 
Phroso  and  caught  her  round  the  waist,  and  was 
looking  in  her  eyes,  and  stroking  her  hand,  and 
murmuring  soft  woman's  comforting.  Demetri 
took  a  step  forward. 

"  Come  if  you  dare  !  "  cried  the  woman,  bold 
as  a  legion  of  men.  "  Is  a  dog  like  you  to  come 
near  my  Lady  Euphrosyne?"  And  Phroso 
turned  her  face  away  from  the  men  and  hid  it  in 
the  woman's  bosom. 

Then  came  a  cold,  rasping  voice,  charged  with 
a  bitter  anger  that  masqueraded  as  amusement. 

"  What  is  this  comedy,  cousin  ?  "  asked  Con- 
stantine.  "  You  love  this  man  ?  You,  the  Lady 
of  the  island — you  who  have  pledged  your  troth 
to  me  ? "  He  turned  to  the  people,  spreading 
out  his  hands. 


ig&  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"You  all  know,"  said  he,  "you  all  know,  that 
we  are  plighted  to  one  another." 

A  murmuring  assent  greeted  his  words.  "  Yes, 
they  are  betrothed,"  I  heard  half-a-dozen  mutter, 
as  they  directed  curious  glances  at  Phroso.  "  Yes, 
while  the  old  Lord  lived  they  were  betrothed." 

Then  I  thought  it  time  for  me  to  take  a  hand 
in  the  game;  so  I  stepped  forward,  in  spite  of 
Kortes's  restraining  arm. 

"  Be  careful,"  he  whispered.     "  Be  careful." 

I  looked  at  him.  His  face  was  drawn  and 
pale,  like  the  face  of  a  man  in  pain,  but  he  smiled 
still  in  his  friendly,  open  fashion. 

"  I  must  speak,"  I  said.  I  walked  up  to  within 
two  yards  of  Constantine,  the  islanders  giving 
way  before  me,  and  I  said  loudly  and  distinctly, — 

"Was  that  same  betrothal  before  you  married 
your  wife  or  afterwards  ?  " 

He  sprang  half-way  up  from  his  seat,  as  if  to 
leap  upon  me,  but  he  sank  back  again,  his  face 
convulsed  with  passion,  and  his  fingers  picking 
furiously  at  the  turf  by  his  side.  "  His  wife  !  " 
went  round  the  ring  in  amazed  whisperings. 

"  Yes,  his  wife,"  said  I.  "  The  wife  who  was 
with  him  when  I  saw  him  in  my  country ;  the 
wife  who  came  with  him  here ;  who  was  in  the 
cottage  on  the  hill ;  whom  Vlacho  would  have 
dragged  by  force  to  her  death ;  who  lay  last 
night  yonder  in  the  guard-house.  Where  is  she, 


The  Last  Card.  199 

Constantine  Stefanopoulos  ?  Or  is  she  dead 
now,  and  you  free  to  wed  the  Lady  Euphrosyne  ? 
Is  she  alive,  or  has  she  by  now  learned  the  secret 
of  the  Stefanopouloi  ?  " 

I  do  not  know  which  made  more  stir  among 
the  people,  my  talk  of  his  wife  or  my  hint  about 
the  secret.  They  crowded  round  me,  hemming 
me  in.  I  saw  Phroso  no  more ;  but  Kortes 
pushed  his  way  to  my  side.  Then  the  eyes  of 
all  turned  on  Constantine,  where  he  sat  with  face 
working  and  nails  fiercely  plucking  the  turf. 

"  What  is  this  lie  ?  "  he  cried.  "  I  know  noth- 
ing of  a  wife.  True,  there  was  a  woman  in  the 
cottage." 

"Aye,  there  was  a  woman  in  the  cottage," 
said  Kortes.  "  And  she  was  in  the  guard-house  ; 
but  I  did  not  know  who  she  was,  and  I  had  no 
commands  concerning  her.  And  this  morning 
she  was  gone." 

"  That  woman  is  his  wife,"  said  I.  "  But  he 
and  Vlacho  had  planned  to  kill  her,  in  order  that 
he  might  marry  your  Lady  and  have  your  island 
for  himself." 

Demetri  suddenly  cried,  with  a  great  appear- 
ance of  horror  and  disgust, — 

"  Shall  he  live  to  speak  such  a  slander  against 
my  Lord  ?  " 

But  Demetri  gained  no  attention.  I  had  made 
too  much  impression. 


200  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Who  was  the  woman,  then,"  said  I,  "  and 
where  is  she  ?  " 

Constantine,  tricky  and  resourceful,  looked 
again  on  the  dead  Vlacho. 

"  I  may  not  tell  my  friend's  secrets,"  said  he, 
with  an  admirable  assumption  of  honour.  "And 
a  foul  blow  has  sealed  Vlacho's  lips." 

"  Yes,"  cried  I.  "  Vlacho  killed  the  old  Lord, 
and  Vlacho  brought  the  woman  !  Indeed  Vlacho 
serves  my  Lord  as  well  dead  as  when  he  lived ! 
For  now  his  lips  are  sealed.  Come,  then, — 
Vlacho  bought  the  island,  and  Vlacho  slew  Spiro, 
and  now  Vlacho  has  slain  himself !  Neither 
Constantine  nor  I  have  done  anything;  but  it 
is  all  Vlacho  —  the  useful  Vlacho — Vlacho — 
Vlacho!" 

Constantine's  face  was  a  sight  to  see,  and  he 
looked  no  pleasanter  when  my  irony  wrung  smiles 
from  some  of  the  men  round  him,  while  others 
bit  their  lips  to  stop  smiles  that  sought  to  come. 

"  O  faithful  servant !  "  I  cried,  apostrophising 
Vlacho.  "  Heavy  are  thy  sins !  Mayst  thou 
find  mercy  for  them  !  " 

I  did  not  know  what  cards  Constantine  held. 
If  he  had  succeeded  in  spiriting  away  his  wife, 
by  fair  means  or  foul,  he  had  the  better  chance  ; 
but  if  she  were  still  free,  alive  and  free,  then  he 
played  a  perilous  hand  and  was  liable  to  be 
utterly  confounded.  Yet  he  was  forced  to 


The  Last  Card.  201 

action  ;  I  had  so  moved  the  people  that  they 
looked  for  more  than  mere  protests  from  him. 

:'  The  stranger  who  came  to  steal  our  island," 
said  he,  skilfully  prejudicing  me  by  this  descrip- 
tion, "  asks  me  where  the  woman  is.  But  I  ask 
it  of  him— where  is  she  ?  For  it  stands  with  him 
to  put  her  before  you  that  she  may  tell  you 
whether  I,  Constantine  Stefanopoulos,  am  lying 
to  you.  Yet  how  long  is  it  since  you  doubted 
the  words  of  the  Stefanopouloi  and  believed 
strangers  rather  than  them  ?  " 

His  appeal  won  on  them.  They  met  it  with 
murmured  applause. 

"You  know  me,  you  know  my  family,"  he 
cried.  "Yet  you  hearken  to  the  desperate 
words  of  a  man  who  fights  for  his  life  with  lies  ! 
How  shall  I  satisfy  you  ?  For  I  have  not  the 
woman  in  my  keeping.  But  have  you  not  heard 
me  when  I  swore  my  love  for  my  cousin  before 
you  and  the  old  Lord  who  is  dead?  Am  I  a 
man  to  be  forsworn?  Shall  I  swear  to  you 
now?  " 

The  current  began  to  run  strongly  with  him. 
He  had  called  to  his  aid  patriotism  and  the  old 
clan-loyalty  which  bound  the  Neopalians  to  his 
house,  and  they  did  not  fail  him.  The  islanders 
were  ready  to  trust  him  if  he  would  pledge  him- 
self to  them. 

"  Swear  then  !  "   they  cried.     "  Swear  to  us  on 


202  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

the  sacred  picture  that  what  the  stranger  says  is 
a  lie." 

"  On  the  sacred  picture  ?  "  said  he.  "  Is  it  not 
too  great  and  holy  an  oath  for  such  a  matter  ? 
Is  not  my  word  enough  for  you  ?  " 

But  the  old  priest  stepped  forward. 

"  It  is  a  great  matter,"  said  he,  "  for  it  touches 
closely  the  honour  of  your  house,  my  Lord,  and 
on  it  hangs  a  man's  life.  Is  any  oath  too  great 
when  honour  and  life  lie  in  the  balance  ?  Let 
your  life  stand  against  his,  for  he  who  swears 
thus  and  falsely  has  no  long  life  in  Neopalia. 
Here  we  guard  the  honour  of  Saint  Tryphon." 

"Yes,  swear  on  the  picture,"  cried  the  people. 
"  It  is  enough  if  you  swear  on  the  picture  !  " 

I  could  see  that  Constantine  was  not  in  love 
with  the  suggestion,  but  he  accepted  it  with  toler- 
able grace,  acquiescing  in  the  old  priest's  argument 
with  a  half-disdainful  shrug.  The  people  greeted 
his  consent  with  obvious  pleasure,  save  only 
Demetri,  who  regarded  him  with  a  doubtful  ex- 
pression. Demetri  knew  the  truth,  and,  though 
he  would  cut  a  throat  with  a  light  heart,  he  would 
shrink  from  a  denial  of  the  deed  when  sworn  on 
the  holy  picture.  Truly  conscience  works  some- 
times in  strange  ways,  making  the  lesser  sin  the 
greater,  and  dwarfing  vile  crimes  to  magnify 
their  venial  brethren.  No,  Demetri  would  not 
have  sworn  on  the  picture ;  and  when  he  saw  it 


The  Last  Card.  203 

brought  to  Constantine  he  shrank  away  from  his 
leader,  and  I  saw  him  privily  and  furtively  cross 
himself.  But  Constantine,  freed  by  the  scepti- 
cism he  had  learned  in  the  West  to  practise  the 
crimes  the  East  had  taught  him,  made  little 
trouble  about  it :  when  the  ceremonies  that  had 
attended  the  old  woman's  oath  earlier  in  the  day 
had  been  minutely,  solemnly,  and  tediously  re- 
peated, he  swore  before  them  as  bravely  as  you 
please  and  thereby  bid  fair  to  write  my  death- 
warrant  in  his  lying  words.  For  when  the  oath 
was  done,  the  most  awful  names  in  heaven  stand- 
ing sanction  to  his  perjury,  and  he  ceased,  say- 
ing "  I  have  sworn,"  the  eyes  of  the  men  round 
him  turned  on  me  again  and  seemed  to  ask  me 
silently  what  plea  for  mercy  I  could  now  advance. 
But  I  caught  at  my  chance. 

"Let  Demetri  swear,"  said  I  coolly,  "that  so 
far  as  his  knowledge  goes  the  truth  is  no  other 
than  what  the  Lord  Constantine  has  sworn." 

"A  subterfuge!"  cried  Constantine  impa- 
tiently. "  What  should  Demetri  know  of  it  ?  " 

"  If  he  knows  nothing  it  is  easy  for  him  to 
swear,"  said  I.  "  Men  of  the  island,  a  man 
should  have  every  chance  for  his  life.  I  have 
given  you  back  your  island.  Do  this  for  me. 
Make  Demetri  swear.  Ah,  look  at  the  man  !  See, 
he  shakes ;  his  face  goes  pale  ;  there  is  a  sweat 
on  his  brow.  Why,  why?  Make  him  swear!" 


204  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

I  should  not  have  prevailed  without  the  assist- 
ing evidence  of  the  villain's  face.  It  was  as  I 

o 

said  ;  he  grew  pale  and  sweated  on  the  forehead  ; 
he  cleared  his  throat  hoarsely,  but  did  not  speak. 
Constantine's  eyes  said,  "  Swear,  fool,  swear !  " 

"  Let  Demetri  also  swear,"  cried  some.  "Yes, 
it  is  easy,  if  he  knows  nothing." 

Suddenly  Phroso  sprang  forward. 

"  Yes,  let  him  swear,"  she  cried.  "  Who  is 
Chief  here?  Have  I  no  power?  Let  him 
swear ! "  And  she  signed  imperiously  to  the 
priest. 

They  brought  the  picture  to  Demetri ;  he 
shrank  from  it  as  though  its  touch  would  kill  him. 

"  In  the  name  of  Almighty  God,  as  you  hope 
for  mercy  ;  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  the  Saviour, 
as  you  pray  for  pity ;  in  the  name  of  the  Most 
Blessed  Spirit,  whose  Word  is  Truth  ;  by  the 

Most  Holy  Virgin,  and  by  our  Holy  Saint " 

began  the  old  man.  But  Demetri  cried  hoarsely  : 

"Take  it  away,  take  it  away.  I  will  not 
swear." 

"  Let  him  swear,"  said  Phroso,  and  this  time 
the  whole  throng  caught  up  her  command  and 
echoed  it  in  fierce  urgency. 

"  Let  him  swear  to  tell  the  whole  truth  of  what 
he  knows,  hiding  nothing,  according  to  the  terms 
of  the  oath,"  said  the  priest,  pursuing  his  ritual. 

"  He    shall    not    swear,"    cried    Constantine, 


The  Last  Card.  205 

springing  up.  But  he  spoke  to  deaf  ears  and 
won  only  looks  of  new-born  suspicion. 

"  It  is  the  custom  of  the  island,"  they  growled. 
"  It  has  been  done  in  Neopalia  time  out  of 
mind." 

"Yes,"  said  the  priest.  "Time  out  of  mind 
has  a  man  been  free  to  ask  this  oath  of  whomso- 
ever he  suspected.  Swear,  Demetri,  as  our  Lady 
and  our  law  bid."  And  he  ended  the  words  of 
the  oath. 

Demetri  looked  round,  to  right,  to  left,  and  to 
right  again.  He  sought  escape.  There  was 
none:  his  way  was  barred.  His  arms  fell  by  his 
side. 

"Will  you  let  me  go  unharmed  if  I  speak  the 
truth  ?  "  he  asked  sullenly. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Phroso,  "  if  you  speak  the 
whole  truth,  you  shall  go  unhurt." 

The  excitement  was  intense  now  ;  for  Demetri 
took  the  oath,  Constantine  watching  with  pale, 
strained  face.  Then  followed  a  moment's  utter 
silence,  broken  an  instant  later  by  an  irresistible 
outbreak  of  wondering  cries,  for  Demetri  said, 
"  Follow  me,"  and  turned  and  began  to  walk  in 
the  direction  of  the  town.  "  Follow  me,"  he 
said  again.  "  I  will  tell  the  truth.  I  have  served 
my  Lord  well,  but  a  man's  soul  is  his  own.  No 
master  buys  a  man's  soul.  I  will  tell  the  truth." 

The  change  in  feeling  was  witnessed  by  what 


206  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

happened.  At  a  sign  from  the  priest,  Kortes 
and  another  each  took  one  of  Constantine's  arms 
and  raised  him.  He  was  trembling  now  and 
hardly  able  to  set  one  foot  before  the  other. 
The  dogs  of  justice  were  hard  on  his  heels  and 
he  was  a  craven  at  heart.  Thus  bearing  him  with 
us,  in  procession  we  followed  Demetri  from  the 
place  of  assembly  back  to  the  steep,  narrow  street 
that  ran  up  from  the  sea.  On  the  way  none 
spoke ;  in  the  middle  I  walked,  and  in  front  of 
me  went  Phroso,  the  woman  who  had  come  to 
comfort  her  still  holding  her  arm  in  hers. 

On  Demetri  led  us  with  quick,  decisive  steps ; 
but  when  he  came  to  the  door  of  the  inn  which 
had  belonged  to  that  Vlacho  whose  body  lay 
now  deserted  on  the  level  grass  above  the  sea- 
shore, he  halted  abruptly ;  then  turned  and  en- 
tered. We  followed,  Constantine's  supporters 
bringing  him  also  with  us.  We  passed  through 
the  large  lower  room  and  out  of  the  house  again 
into  an  enclosed  yard  bounded  on  the  seaward 
side  by  a  low  stone  wall  towards  which  the  ground 
sloped  rapidly.  Here  Demetri  stopped. 

"  By  my  oath,"  said  he,  "  and  as  God  hears  me  ! 
I  knew  not  who  this  woman  was  ;  but  last  night 
Vlacho  bade  me  come  with  him  to  the  cottage 
on  the  hill,  and,  if  he  called  me,  I  was  to  come 
and  help  him  to  carry  her  to  the  house  of  my 
Lord  Constantine.  He  called,  and  I,  coming  with 

. 


The  Last  Card,  207 

Kortes,  found  Vlacho  dead.  Kortes  would  not 
suffer  me  to  touch  the  lady,  but  bade  me  stay 
with  Vlacho.  But  when  Kortes  was  gone  and 
Vlacho  dead,  I  ran  and  told  my  Lord  what  had 
happened.  My  Lord  was  greatly  disturbed  and 
bade  me  come  with  him  ;  so  we  came  together  to 
the  town,  and  passed  together  by  the  guard- 
house." 

"  Lies,  foul  lies,"  cried  Constantine  ;  but  they 
bade  him  be  quiet,  and  Demetri  continued  in  a 
composed  voice : 

"  There  Kortes  watched  ;  my  Lord  asked  him 
whom  he  held  prisoner ;  and  when  he  heard  that 
it  was  the  Englishman,  he  sought  to  prevail  on 
Kortes  to  deliver  him  up  ;  but  Kortes  would  not 
without  the  command  of  the  Lady  Euphrosyne. 
Then  my  Lord  said,  '  Have  you  no  other  prisoner, 
Kortes  ?  '  Kortes  answered,  '  There  is  a  woman 
here  whom  we  found  in  the  cottage  ;  but  you  gave 
me  no  orders  concerning  her,  my  Lord,  neither 
you,  nor  the  Lady  of  the  island.'  '  I  care  noth- 
ing about  her,'  said  my  Lord  with  a  shrug  of  his 
shoulders,  and  he  and  I  turned  away  and  walked 
some  paces  up  the  street.  Then,  at  my  Lord's 
bidding,  I  crouched  down  with  him  in  the  shadow 
of  a  house  and  waited.  Presently,  when  the 
clock  had  struck  two,  we  saw  Kortes  come  out 
from  the  guard-house ;  and  the  woman  was  with 
him.  Now  we  were  but  fifty  feet  from  them,  and 


208  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

the  wind  was  blowing  from  them  to  us,  and  I 
heard  what  the  lady  said." 

"  It  happened  as  he  says,"  interrupted  Kortes 
in  a  grave  tone.  "  I  promised  secrecy,  but  I  will 
speak  now." 

"'I  must  go  to  the  Lady  Euphrosyne,'  said 
she  to  Kortes,"  continued  Demetri.  "  '  I  have 
something  to  say  to  her.'  Kortes  answered, 
'  She  is  lodging  at  the  house  of  the  priest.  It  is 
the  tenth  house  on  the  left  hand  as  you  mount 
the  hill.'  She  thanked  him,  and  he  turned  back 
into  the  guard-house,  and  we  saw  no  more  of 
him.  The  lady  came  slowly  and  fearfully  up  the 
road  ;  my  Lord  beside  me  laughed  gently,  and 
twisted  a  silk  scarf  in  his  hand ;  there  was  no- 
body in  the  street  except  my  Lord,  the  lady,  and 
me.  And  as  she  went  by,  my  Lord  sprang  out 
on  her,  and  twisted  the  scarf  across  her  mouth 
before  she  could  cry  out.  Then  he  and  I  lifted  her, 
and  carried  her  swiftly  down  the  street ;  we  came 
here,  to  Vlacho's  inn  ;  the  door  was  open,  for 
Vlacho  had  gone  out ;  it  had  not  yet  become 
known  that  he  would  never  return.  We  carried 
her  swiftly  through  the  house,  and  brought  her 
where  we  stand  now,  and  laid  her  on  the  ground  ; 
my  Lord  tied  her  hands  and  her  feet,  so  that  she 
lay  still ;  her  mouth  was  already  gagged.  Then 
my  Lord  drew  me  aside,  and  took  five  pieces  of 
gold  from  his  purse,  and  said,  looking  into  my  eyes, 


The  Last  Card.  209 

'  Is  it  enough  ?  '  I  understood,  and  said,  '  It  is 
enough,  my  Lord,'  and  he  pressed  my  hand  and  left 
me,  without  going  again  near  the  woman.  And  I, 
having  put  the  five  pieces  in  my  purse,  drew  my 
knife  from  its  sheath  and  came  and  stood  over 
the  woman,  looking  how  I  might  best  strike  the 
blow.  She  was  gagged  and  tied,  and  lay  motion- 
less. But  the  night  was  bright,  and  I  saw  her 
eyes  fixed  on  mine.  I  stood  long  by  her  with  my 
knife  in  my  hand ;  then  I  knelt  down  by  her  to 
strike.  But  her  eyes  burned  into  my  heart,  and 
suddenly  I  seemed  to  hear  Satan  by  my  side, 
chuckling  and  whispering,  '  Strike,  Demetri, 
strike  !  Art  thou  not  damned  already  ?  Strike  ! ' 
And  I  did  not  dare  to  look  to  the  right  or  the 
left,  for  I  felt  the  fiend  by  me.  So  I  shut  my 
eyes  and  grasped  my  knife  ;  but  the  lady's  eyes 
drew  mine  open  again,  although  I  struggled  to 
keep  them  shut.  Now  many  devils  seemed  to  be 
round  me  ;  and  they  were  gleeful,  saying,  '  Oh, 
he  is  ours !  Yes,  Demetri  is  ours.  He  will  do 
this  thing  and  then  surely  he  is  ours  ! '  Suddenly 
I  sobbed ;  and  when  my  sob  came,  a  gleam 
lighted  the  lady's  eyes  ;  her  eyes  looked  like  the 
eyes  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  the  church  ;  I  could 
not  strike  her.  I  flung  down  my  knife,  and  fell 
to  sobbing.  As  I  sobbed  the  noise  of  the  devils 
ceased ;  and  I  seemed  to  hear  instead  a  voice 
from  above  that  said  to  me,  very  softly,  '  Have 


210  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  died  to  keep  thy  soul  alive,  and  thou  thyself 
wouldst  kill  it,  Demetri  ?  '  I  know  not  if  any  one 
spoke  ;  but  the  night  was  very  still,  and  I  was 
afraid,  and  I  cried  low,  '  Alas,  I  am  a  sinner ! ' 
But  the  voice  said,  '  Sin  no  more.'  And  the  eyes 
of  the  lady  implored  me.  But  then  they  closed, 
and  I  saw  that  she  had  fainted.  And  I  raised 
her  gently  in  my  arms  and  carried  her  across  this 
piece  of  ground  where  we  stand." 

He  ended,  and  stood  for  a  moment  silent  and 
motionless  ;  none  of  us  spoke. 

"  I  took  her,"  said  he,  "  there,  where  the  wall 
ends  ;  for  I  knew  that  Vlacho  had  his  larder 
there.  The  door  of  the  larder  was  locked,  but  I 
set  the  lady  down  and  returned  and  took  my 
knife  from  the  ground,  and  I  forced  the  lock  and 
took  her  in,  and  laid  her  on  the  floor  of  the  larder. 
Then  I  returned  to  £he  house,  and  called  to 
Panayiota,  Vlacho's  daughter,  with  whom  I  was 
acquainted ;  when  she  came  I  charged  her  to 
watch  the  lady  till  I  came  again,  saying  that 
Vlacho  had  bidden  me  bring  her  here  ;  for  I 
meant  to  return  in  a  few  hours  and  carry  the 
lady  to  some  place  of  safety  if  I  could  find  one. 
Panayiota,  fearing  Vlacho,  and  having  an  affec- 
tion for  me,  promised  faithfully  to  keep  the  lady 
safe.  Then  I  ran  after  my  Lord,  and  found  him 
at  the  house,  and  told  him  that  the  deed  was 
done,  and  that  I  had  hidden  the  body  here  ;  and  I 


The  Last  Card*  211 

craved  leave  to  return  and  make  a  grave  for  the 
body  or  carry  it  to  the  sea.  But  he  said, '  It  will 
be  soon  enough  in  the  evening.  We  shall  be  quit 
of  troubles  by  the  evening.  Does  any  one  know  ?  ' 
I  answered  rashly,  '  Panayiota  knows.'  And  he 
was  enraged,  fearing  Panayiota  would  betray  us ; 
but  when  he  heard  that  she  and  I  were  lovers,  he 
was  appeased  ;  yet  I  could  not  find  means  to 
leave  him  and  return  to  the  lady." 

Demetri  ended  :  Phroso,  without  a  look  at  any 
one  of  us,  stepped  lightly  to  the  spot  he  had 
described.  There  was  a  low  hut  there,  with  a 
stout  wooden  door.  Phroso  knocked  on  it,  but 
there  came  no  answer.  She  beckoned  to  Kortes, 
and  he,  coming,  wrenched  open  the  door,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  fastened  by  some  make- 
shift arrangement.  Kortes  disappeared  for  an 
instant ;  then  he  came  out  again  and  motioned 
with  his  hand.  We  crowded  round  the  door,  I 
among  the  first.  There,  indeed,  was  a  strange 
sight.  For  on  the  floor,  propped  against  the 
side  of  the  hut,  sat  a  buxom  girl ;  her  eyes  were 
closed,  her  lips  parted,  and  she  breathed  in 
heavy  regular  breaths ;  Panayiota  had  watched 
faithfully  all  night,  and  now  slept  at  her  post. 
Yet  her  trust  was  not  betrayed  ;  on  her  lap  rested 
the  head  of  the  lady  whom  Demetri  had  not 
found  it  in  his  heart  to  kill ;  the  bonds  with 
which  she  had  been  bound  lay  on  the  floor  by 


2i2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

her ;  and  she  also,  pale  and  with  shadowed  rings 
about  her  eyes,  slept  the  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion 
and  weariness.  We  stood  looking  at  the  strange 
sight — a  sudden  gleam  of  peace  and  homely 
kindness  breaking  across  the  dark  cloud  of  angry 
passions. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Phroso  very  softly  :  she  stepped 
forward  and  fell  on  her  knees  by  the  sleeping 
woman,  and  she  lightly  kissed  Constantine's  wife 
on  the  brow.  "  Praise  be  to  God  !  "  said  Phroso 
softly,  and  kissed  her  again. 


CHAPTER  XIL 
Law  and  Order. 

AT  last  the  whirlgig  seemed  to  have  taken  a 
turn  in  my  favour,  the  revolutions  of  the  wheel 
at  last  to  have  brought  my  fortune  uppermost. 
For  the  sight  of  Francesca  in  Panayiota's  arms 
came  pat  in  confirmation  of  the  story  wrung 
from  Demetri  by  the  power  of  his  oath,  and  his 
"  Behold  !  "  was  not  needed  to  ensure  acceptance 
for  his  testimony.  From  women  rose  compas- 
sionate murmurs,  from  men  angry  growlings 
which  expressed,  while  they  strove  to  hide,  the 
shamefaced  emotions  that  the  helpless  woman's 
narrow  escape  created.  Her  salvation  must  bring 
mine  with  it :  for  it  was  the  ruin  of  her  husband 
and  my  enemy. 

Kortes  and  another  dragged  Constantine  Ste- 
fanopoulos  forward  till  he  stood  within  two  or 
three  yards  of  his  wife ;  none  interposed  on  his 
behalf  or  resented  the  rough  pressure  of  Kortes's 
compelling  hand.  And  even  as  he  was  set  there, 
opposite  the  women,  they,  roused  by  the  subdued 
stir  of  the  excited  throng,  awoke.  First  into  one 


214  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

another's  eyes,  then  round  upon  us,  came  their 
startled  glances ;  then  Francesca  leaped  with  a 
cry  to  her  feet,  ran  to  me,  and  threw  herself  on 
her  knees  before  me,  crying,  "  You'll  save  me, 
my  lord,  you'll  save  me?"  Demetri  hung  his 
head  in  sullen  half-contrition  mingled  with  an 
unmistakable  satisfaction  in  his  religious  piety; 
Constantine  bit  and  licked  his  thin  lips,  his  fists 
tight  clenched,  his  eyes  darting  furtively  about 
in  search  of  friends  or  in  terror  of  avengers. 
And  Phroso  said,  in  her  soft  clear  tones, — 

"  There  is  no  more  need  of  fear,  for  the  truth 
is  known." 

Her  eyes,  though  they  would  not  meet  mine, 
rested  long  in  tender  sympathy  on  the  woman 
who  still  knelt  at  my  feet.  Here  indeed  she 
remained  till  Phroso  came  forward  and  raised 
her,  while  the  old  priest  lifted  his  voice  in  brief 
thanks  to  heaven  for  the  revelation  wrought 
under  the  sanction  of  the  Holy  Saint.  For  my- 
self, I  gave  a  long  sigh  of  relief ;  the  strain 
had  been  on  me  now  for  many  hours,  and  it  tires 
a  man  to  be  knocking  all  day  long  at  the  door 
of  death.  Yet  almost  in  the  instant  that  the 
concern  for  my  own  life  left  me  (that  is  a  thing 
terribly  apt  to  fill  a  man's  mind)  my  thoughts 
turned  to  other  troubles:  to  my  friends,  who 
were — I  knew  not  where ;  to  Phroso,  who  had 
said — I  scarcely  knew  what. 


Law  and  Order.  215 

Suddenly,  striking  firm  and  loud  across  the 
murmurs  and  the  threats  that  echoed  round  the 
ring  in  half-hushed  voices,  came  Kortes's  tones. 

"And  this  man?  What  of  him?"  he  asked, 
his  hand  on  Constantine's  shaking  shoulder. 
"  For  he  has  done  all  that  the  stranger  declared 
of  him  :  he  has  deceived  our  Lady  Euphrosyne  ; 
he  has  sought  to  kill  this  lady  here  ;  we  have  it 
from  his  own  mouth  that  he  slew  the  old  Lord, 
though  he  knew  well  that  the  old  Lord  had 
yielded." 

Constantine's  wife  turned  swiftly  to  the 
speaker. 

"  Did  he  kill  the  old  Lord  ?  "  she  asked.  "  He 
told  me  that  it  was  Spiro  who  struck  him  in  the 
heat  of  the  brawl." 

"Aye,  Spiro  or  Vlacho,  or  whom  you  will," 
said  Kortes  with  a  shrug.  "  There  was  no  pov- 
erty of  lies  in  his  mouth." 

But  the  old  feeling  was  not  dead,  and  one  or 
two  again  murmured, — 

"  The  old  Lord  sold  the  island." 

"  Did  he  die  for  that  ?  "  cried  Francesca  scorn- 
fully. "  Or  was  it  not  in  truth  I  who  brought 
him  to  death?  " 

There  was  a  movement  of  surprised  interest, 
and  all  bent  their  eyes  on  her. 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on,  "  I  think  I  doomed  him  to 
that  death  when  I  went  and  told  him  my  story, 


2i6  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

seeking  his  protection.  Constantine  found  me 
with  him,  and  heard  him  greet  me  as  his  nephew's 
wife,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  that  the  deed 
was  done.  Can  this  man  here  deny  it  ?  Can  he 
deny  that  the  old  Lord  was  awaiting  the  return 
of  the  Lady  Euphrosyne  to  tell  her  of  the  thing, 
when  his  mouth  was  shut  forever  by  the  stroke  ?  " 
This  disclosure,  showing  a  new  and  vile  motive 
for  what  Constantine  had  tried  to  play  off  as  a 
pardonable  excess  of  patriotism,  robbed  him  of 
his  last  defenders.  He  seemed  to  recognise  his 
plight ;  his  eyes  ceased  to  canvass  possible 
favour,  and  dropped  to  the  ground  in  dull  de- 
spair. There  was  not  a  man  now  to  raise  a  voice 
or  a  hand  for  him ;  their  anger  at  having  been 
made  his  dupes  and  his  tools  sharpened  the  edge 
of  their  hatred.  To  me  his  wife's  words  caused 
no  wonder,  for  I  had  from  the  first  believed  that 
some  secret  motive  had  nerved  Constantine's 
arm,  and  that  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
islanders'  mad  folly  for  his  own  purposes.  What 
that  motive  was  stood  out  now  clear  and  ob- 
vious. It  explained  his  act  and  abundantly 
justified  the  distrust  and  fear  of  him  which  I 
had  perceived  in  his  wife's  mind  when  first  I 
talked  with  her  on  the  hill.  But  she,  having 
launched  her  fatal  bolt,  turned  her  eyes  away 
again,  and,  laying  her  hand  in  Phroso's,  stood 
silent. 


Law  and  Order.  217 

Kortes,  appearing  to  take  the  lead  now  by 
general  consent, — for  Phroso  made  no  sign, — 
looked  round  on  his  fellow-countrymen,  seeking 
to  gather  their  decision  from  their  faces.  He 
found  the  guidance  and  agreement  that  he 
sought. 

"  We  may  not  put  any  man  to  death  on  Saint 
Tryphon's  day,"  said  he. 

The  sentence  was  easy  to  read,  for  all  its  indi- 
rectness. The  islanders  understood  it,  and  ap- 
proved in  a  deep  stern  murmur ;  the  women  fol- 
lowed it,  and  their  faces  grew  pale  and  solemn  ; 
the  criminal  missed  nothing  of  its  implied  doom 
and  tottered  under  the  strong  hands  that  now 
rather  supported  than  imprisoned  him.  "  Not 
on  this  day,  but  to-morrow  at  break  of  day." 
The  voice  of  the  people  had  spoken  by  the 
mouth  of  Kortes,  and  none  pleaded  for  mercy  or 
delay. 

"  I  will  take  him  to  the  guard-house  and  keep 
him,"  said  Kortes ;  and  the  old  priest  murmured 
low,  "  God  have  mercy  on  him."  Then  with  a 
swift  dart  Phroso  sprang  towards  Kortes :  her 
hands  were  clasped,  her  eyes  prayed  him  to  seek 
some  ground  of  mercy,  some  pretext  for  a  lighter 
sentence.  She  said  not  a  word,  but  every  one  of 
us  read  her  eloquent  prayer.  Kortes  looked 
round  again :  the  faces  about  him  were  touched 
with  a  tenderness  that  they  had  not  worn  before ; 


218  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

but  the  tenderness  was  for  the  advocate, — no 
part  of  it  reached  the  criminal.  Kortes  shook 
his  head  gravely :  Phroso  turned  to  the  woman 
who  had  comforted  her  before,  and  hid  her  face. 
Constantine,  seeing  the  last  hope  gone,  swayed 
and  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  man  who,  with 
Kortes,  held  him,  uttering  a  long,  low  moan  of 
fear  and  despair,  terrible  to  listen  to,  even  from 
lips  guilty  as  his.  Thus  was  Constantine  Stefan- 
opoulos  tried  for  his  life  in  the  yard  of  Vlacho's 
inn  in  Neopalia :  the  trial  ended,  he  was  carried 
out  into  the  street  on  his  way  to  the  prison,  and 
we,  one  and  all,  in  dead  silence,  followed.  The 
yard  was  emptied,  and  the  narrow  street  choked 
with  the  attending  crowd  which  followed  Kortes 
and  his  prisoner  till  the  doors  of  the  guard-house 
closed  on  them. 

Then,  for  the  first  time  that  day,  Phroso's  eyes 
sought  mine  in  a  rapid  glance,  in  which  I  read 
joy  for  my  safety  ;  but  the  glance  fell  as  I  an- 
swered it,  and  she  turned  away  in  confusion.  Her 
avowal,  forgotten  for  an  instant  in  gladness,  re- 
curred to  her  mind  and  dyed  her  cheeks  red. 
Averting  my  eyes  from  her,  I  looked  down  the 
slope  of  the  street  towards  the  sea.  The  thought 
of  her  and  of  nothing  else  was  in  my  mind. 

Ah,  my  island  !  My  sweet,  capricious  island  ! 

A  sudden  uncontrollable  exclamation  burst 
from  my  lips  and,  raising  my  hand,  I  pointed  to 


Law  and  Order.  219 

the  harbour  and  the  blue  water  beyond.  Every 
head  followed  the  direction  of  my  outstretched 
finger  :  every  pair  of  eyes  was  focussed  on  the 
object  that  held  mine.  A  short,  breathless 
silence — a  momentary  wonder — then,  shrill  or 
deep,  low  in  fear  or  loud  in  excitement,  broke 
forth  the  cry, — 

"  The  Governor!     The  Governor !  " 
For  a  gunboat  was  steaming  slowly  into  the 
harbour  of  Neopalia,  and  the  Turkish  flag  flew 
over  her. 

The  sight  wrought  transformation.  In  a  mo- 
ment, as  it  seemed  to  me,  the  throng  round  me 
melted  away  :  the  street  grew  desolate ;  the 
houses  on  either  side  swallowed  their  eager  oc- 
cupants ;  Kortes  alone,  with  his  prisoner,  knew 
nothing  of  the  fresh  event ;  Phroso  and  Francesca 
only  stood  their  ground :  Demetri  was  slinking 
hastily  away :  the  old  priest  was  making  for  his 
home  :  the  shutters  of  dead  Vlacho's  inn  came 
down,  and  girls  bustled  to  and  fro,  preparing 
food.  I  stood  unwatched,  unheeded,  apparently 
forgotten  ;  festival,  tumult,  trial,  condemnation 
seemed  past  like  visions ;  the  flag  that  flew  from 
the  gunboat  brought  back  modern  days,  the 
prose  of  life,  and  ended  the  wild  poetic  drama  that 
we  had  played  and  a  second  One-eyed  Alexander 
might  worthily  have  sung.  How  had  the  Gov- 
ernor come  before  his  time,  and  why  ? 


220  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Denny ! "  I  cried  aloud  in  inspiration  and 
hope,  and  I  ran  as  though  the  foul  fiends  whom 
Demetri  had  heard  were  behind  me.  Down  the 
steep  street  and  on  to  the  jetty  I  ran  :  as  I  ar- 
rived there  the  gunboat  also  reached  it,  and,  a 
moment  later,  Denny  was  shaking  my  hand  till 
it  felt  like  falling  off,  while  from  the  deck  of  the 
boat  Hogvardt  and  Watkins  were  waving  wild 
congratulations. 

Denny  had  jumped  straight  from  deck  to  jetty  : 
but  now  a  gangway  was  thrust  out,  and  I  passed 
with  him  on  to  the  deck,  and  presented  myself 
with  a  low  bow  to  a  gentleman  who  stood  there. 
He  was  a  tall,  full-bodied  man,  apparently  some- 
what under  fifty  years  old ;  his  face  was  heavy 
and  broad,  in  complexion  dark  and  sallow  ;  he 
wore  a  short  black  beard ;  his  lips  were  full,  his 
eyes  acute  and  small.  I  did  not  like  the  look  of 
him  much  ;  but  he  meant  law  and  order  and  civ- 
ilisation, and  an  end  to  the  wild  ways  of  Neopa- 
lia.  For  this,  as  Denny  whispered  to  me,  was  no 
less  a  man  than  the  Governor  himself,  Mouraki 
Pasha.  I  bowed  again  yet  lower;  for  I  stood 
before  a  man  of  whom  report  had  much  to  tell, — 
something  good,  much  bad,  all  interesting. 

He  spoke  to  me  in  low,  slow,  suave  tones,  em- 
ploying the  Greek  language,  which  he  spoke 
fluently,  although  as  a  foreigner.  For  Mouraki 
was  by  birth  an  Armenian. 


Law  and  Order.  221 

"  You  must  have  much  to  tell  me,  Lord  Wheat- 
ley,"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "  But  first  I  must  as- 
sure you  with  what  pleasure  I  find  you  alive  and 
unhurt.  Be  confident  that  you  shall  not  want  re- 
dress for  the  wrongs  which  these  turbulent  ras- 
cals have  inflicted  on  you.  I  know  these  men  of 
Neopalia :  they  are  hard  men ;  but  they  also 
know  me,  and  that  I  in  my  turn  can  be  a  hard 
man  if  need  be."  His  looks  did  not  belie  his 
words,  as  his  sharp  eye  travelled  with  an  ominous 
glance  over  the  little  town  by  the  harbour. 
"  But  you  will  wish  to  speak  with  your  friends 
first,"  he  went  on  courteously.  "  May  I  ask 
your  attention  in  half-an-hour's  time  from  now  ?  " 

I  bowed  obedience :  the  great  man  turned 
away  :  and  Denny  caught  me  by  the  arm,  crying, 
"  Now,  old  man,  tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  I  rather  indignantly.  "  Just 
you  tell  me  all  about  it." 

But  Denny  was  firmer  than  I,  and  my  ad- 
ventures came  before  his.  I  told  them  all  faith- 
fully, save  one  incident :  it  may  perhaps  be 
guessed  which.  Denny  and  the  other  two  lis- 
tened with  frequent  exclamations  of  surprise, 
and  danced  with  exultation  at  the  final  worsting 
of  Constantine  Stefanopoulos. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  Denny  reassuringly. 
"  Old  Mouraki  will  hang  him  just  the  same." 

"  Now  it's  your  turn,"  said  I. 


222  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  Oh,  our  story's  nothing.  We  just  got 
through  that  old  drain,  and  came  out  by  the  sea, 
and  all  the  fishermen  had  gone  off  to  the  fishing- 
grounds,  except  one  old  chap  they  left  behind  to 
look  after  their  victuals.  Well,  we  didn't  know 
how  to  get  back  to  you,  and  the  old  chap  told 
us  that  the  whole  place  was  alive  with  armed  ruf- 
fians, so " 

"Just  tell  the  story  properly,  will  you?"  said 
I  sternly. 

At  last,  by  pressing  and  much  questioning,  I 
got  the  story  from  them,  and  here  it  is  ;  for  it 
was  by  no  means  so  ordinary  a  matter  as  Denny's 
modesty  would  have  had  me  think.  When  the 
consternation  caused  by  the  cutting  of  our  rope 
had  passed  away,  a  hurried  council  decided  them 
to  press  on  with  all  speed,  and  they  took  their 
way  along  a  narrow,  damp,  and  slippery  ledge  of 
rock  which  encircled  the  basin.  So  perilous  did 
the  track  seem  that  Hogvardt  insisted  on  their 
being  roped  as  though  for  a  mountaineering  as- 
cent, and  thus  they  continued  the  journey.  The 
first  opening  from  the  basin  they  found  without 
much  difficulty.  Now  the  rope  proved  useful, 
for  Denny,  passing  through  first,  fell  headlong 
into  space  and  most  certainly  would  have  per- 
ished but  for  the  support  his  companions  gave 
him.  The  track  turned  at  right  angles  to  the 
left,  and  Denny  had  walked  straight  over  the 


Law  and  Order.  223 

edge  of  the  rock.  Sobered  by  this  accident,  and 
awake  to  their  peril  (it  must  be  remembered  that 
they  had  no  lantern)  they  groped  their  way 
slowly  and  cautiously,  up  and  down,  in  and  out. 
Hours  passed.  Watkins,  less  accustomed  than 
the  others  to  a  physical  strain,  could  hardly  lift 
his  feet.  All  this  while  the  dim  glimmer  which 
Denny  had  seen  retreated  before  them,  appearing 
to  grow  no  nearer  for  all  their  efforts.  They 
walked,  as  they  found  afterwards, — or  walked, 
crawled,  scrambled  and  jumped, — for  eleven 
hours,  their  haste  and  anxiety  allowing  no  pause 
for  rest.  Then  they  seemed  to  see  the  end,  for 
the  winding,  tortuous  track  appeared  at  last  to 
make  up  its  mind.  It  took  a  straight  downward 
line,  and,  Denny's  hard-learned  caution  vanishing, 
he  started  along  it  at  a  trot  and  with  a  hearty 
hurrah.  He  tempted  fate.  The  slope  became 
suddenly  a  drop.  This  time  all  three  fell  with  a 
splash  and  a  thud  into  a  deep  pool,  one  on  the 
top  of  the  other.  Here  they  scrambled  for  some 
minutes,  Watkins  coming  very  near  to  finding  an 
end  of  the  troubles  of  his  eventful  service.  But 
Denny  and  Hogvardt  managed  to  get  him  out. 
The  path  began  again.  Content  with  its  last 
freak,  it  pursued  now  a  business-like  way  ;  the 
glimmer  grew  to  a  gleam ;  the  gleam  spread  into 
a  glad  blaze.  "The  sea,  the  sea  !  "  cried  Denny. 
A  last  spurt  landed  them  in  a  cave  that  bordered 


224  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

on  the  blue  waters.  What  they  did  on  that  I 
could  by  no  means  persuade  them  to  tell ;  but 
had  I  been  there  I  should  have  thanked  God  and 
shaken  hands;  and  thus,  I  dare  say,  did  they. 
And  besides  that,  they  lay  there,  dog-tired  and 
beaten,  for  an  hour  or  more,  in  one  of  those  de- 
spondent fits  that  assail  even  brave  men,  making 
sure  that  I  was  dead  or  taken,  and  that  their  own 
chances  of  escape  were  small,  and,  since  I  was 
dead  or  taken,  hardly  worth  the  seeking. 

They  were  roused  by  an  old  man,  who  sud- 
denly entered  the  cave,  bearing  a  bundle  of  sticks 
in  his  arms.  At  sight  of  them  he  dropped  his 
load  and  turned  to  fly  ;  but  they  were  on  him 
in  an  instant,  seizing  him  and  crying  to  know 
who  he  was.  He  had  as  many  questions  for 
them  ;  and  when  he  learned  who  they  were  and 
how  they  had  come  he  raised  his  hands  in 
wonder,  and  told  Hogvardt,  who  alone  could 
make  him  understand,  that  their  fears  were  well 
grounded.  He  had  met  a  Neopalian  but  an  hour 
since,  and  the  talk  in  all  the  island  was  of  how 
the  stranger  had  killed  Vlacho,  and  been  taken  by 
Kortes,  and  would  die  on  the  next  day  ;  for  this 
was  the  early  morning  of  the  feast-day.  Denny 
was  for  a  dash ;  but  a  dash  meant  certain  death. 
Watkins  was  ready  for  the  venture,  though  the 
poor  fellow  could  hardly  crawl.  Hogvardt 
held  firm  to  the  chance  that  more  cautious  mea- 


Law  and  Order.  225 

sures  gave.  The  old  man's  comrades  were  away 
at  their  fishing-grounds,  ten  miles  out  at  sea  ;  but 
he  had  a  boat  down  on  the  beach.  Thither  they 
went,  and  set  out  under  the  fisherman's  guidance, 
pulling  in  desperate  perseverance,  with  numb, 
weary  limbs,  under  the  increasing  heat  of  the 
sun.  But  their  wills  asked  too  much  of  their 
bodies.  Watkins  dropped  his  oar  with  a  groan  ; 
Denny's  moved  weakly  and  uselessly  through 
the  water  that  hardly  stirred  under  its  blade ; 
Hogvardt  at  last  flung  himself  into  the  stern  with 
one  groan  of  despair.  The  old  fisherman  cast 
resigned  eyes  up  to  heaven,  and  the  boat  tossed 
motionless  on  the  water.  Thus  they  lay  while  I 
fought  my  duel  with  Constantine  Stefanopoulos 
on  the  other  side  of  Neopalia. 

Then,  while  they  were  still  four  miles  from  the 
fishing-fleet  where  lay  their  only  known  chance 
of  succour  for  me  or  for  themselves,  there  came 
suddenly  to  their  incredulous  eyes  a  shape  on 
the  sea  and  a  column  of  smoke.  Denny's  spring 
forward  went  near  to  capsizing  the  boat.  Oars 
were  seized  again  ;  weariness  fled  before  hope ; 
the  gunboat  came  in  view,  growing  clear  and 
definite.  She  moved  quickly  towards  them ; 
they  slowly,  yet  eagerly,  to  her ;  the  interval 
grew  less  and  less.  They  shouted  before  they 
could  be  heard,  and  shouted  still  in  needless 
caution  long  after  they  had  been  heard.  A  boat 


226  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

put  out  to  them  ;  they  were  taken  on  board ; 
their  story  heard  with  shrugs  of  wonder.  Mou- 
raki  could  not  be  seen.  "  I'll  see  him  ! "  cried 
Denny,  and  Hogvardt  plied  the  recalcitrant 
officer  with  smooth  entreaties.  The  life  of  a 
man  was  at  stake !  But  he  could  not  be  seen. 
The  life  of  an  Englishman  !  His  Excellency 
slept  through  the  heat  of  the  day.  The  life 
of  an  English  lord !  His  Excellency  would 

be  angry,   but !      The  contents   of  Denny's 

pocket,  wild  boasts  of  my  power  and  position  (I 
was  a  favourite  at  Court,  and  so  forth),  at  last 
clinched  the  matter.  His  Excellency  should 
be  roused  ;  heaven  knew  what  he  would  say, 
but  he  should  be  roused.  He  went  to  Neopalia 
next  week  ;  now  he  was  sailing  past  it,  to  inspect 
another  island ;  perhaps  he  would  alter  the 
order  of  his  voyage.  He  was  fond  of  English- 
men ;  it  was  a  great  lord,  was  it  not?  So,  at  last, 
when  Hogvardt  was  at  his  tongue's  end,  and 
Denny  almost  mad  with  rage,  Mouraki  was 
roused ;  he  heard  their  story,  and  pondered  on 
it  with  leisurely  strokings  of  his  beard  and  keen, 
long  glances  of  his  sharp  eyes.  At  last  came  the 
word,  "  To  the  island  then !  "  and  a  cheer  from 
the  three  which  Mouraki  suffered  with  patient, 
uplifted  brows.  Thus  came  Mouraki  to  Neopa- 
lia ;  thus  came,  as  I  hoped,  an  end  to  our  troubles. 
More  than  the  half-hour  which  the  Governor 


Law  and  Order.  227 

had  given  me  passed  swiftly  in  the  narrative ; 
then  came  Mouraki's  summons  and  my  story  to 
him,  heard  with  courteous  impassivity,  received 
at  its  end  with  plentiful  assurances  of  redress  for 
me  and  punishment  for  the  islanders. 

"  The  island  shall  be  restored  to  you,"  said  he. 
"You  shall  have  every  compensation,  Lord 
Wheatley.  These  Neopalians  shall  learn  their 
lesson." 

"  I  want  nothing  but  justice  on  Constantine," 
said  I.  "  The  island  I  have  given  back." 

"  That  goes  for  nothing,"  said  he.  "  It  was 
under  compulsion  :  we  shall  not  acknowledge  it. 
The  island  is  certainly  yours.  Your  title  has 
been  recognised  :  you  could  not  transfer  it  with- 
out the  consent  of  my  Government." 

I  did  not  pursue  the  argument ;  if  Mouraki 
chose  to  hand  the  island  back  to  me,  I  supposed 
that  I  could,  after  such  more  or  less  tedious 
forms  as  were  necessary,  restore  it  to  Phroso. 
For  the  present  the  matter  was  of  small  moment ; 
for  Mouraki  was  there  with  his  men,  and  the 
power  of  the  Lord — or  Lady — of  Neopalia  in 
abeyance.  The  island  was  at  the  feet  of  the 
Governor. 

Indeed  such  was  its  attitude  ;  and  great  was 
the  change  in  the  islanders  when,  in  the  cool  of 
the  evening,  I  walked  up  the  street  by  Mouraki's 
side,  escorted  by  soldiers  and  protected  by  the 


228  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

great  gun  of  the  gunboat  commanding  the  town. 
There  were  many  women  to  watch  us,  few  men, 
and  these  unarmed,  with  downcast  eyes  and  stu- 
dious meekness  of  bearing.  Mouraki  seemed  to 
detect  my  surprise. 

"  They  made  a  disturbance  here  three  years 
ago,"  said  he,  "  and  I  came.  They  have  not  for- 
gotten." 

"  What  did  you  do  to  them  ?  "  I  made  bold 
to  ask. 

"  What  was  necessary,"  he  said  ;  and, — "  They 
are  not  Armenians,"  added  the  Armenian  Gov- 
ernor with  a  smile  which  meant  much  ;  among 
other  things,  as  I  took  it,  that  no  tiresome  Eng- 
lish demanded  fair  trial  for  riotous  Neopalians. 

"  And  Constantine  ? "  said  I.  I  hope  that  I 
was  not  too  vindictive. 

"  It  is  the  feast  of  Saint  Tryphon,"  said  his  Ex- 
cellency with  another  smile. 

We  were  passing  the  guard-house  now.  An 
officer  and  five  men  fell  out  from  the  ranks  of 
our  escort  and  took  their  stand  by  its  doors.  We 
passed  on,  leaving  Constantine  in  this  safe  keep- 
ing; and  Mouraki,  turning  to  me,  said,  "  I  must 
ask  you  for  hospitality.  As  Lord  of  the  island, 
you  enjoy  the  right  of  entertaining  me." 

I  bowed.  We  turned  into  the  road  that  led  to 
the  old  grey  house ;  when  we  were  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  from  it,  I  saw  Phroso  coming  out 


Law  and  Order.  229 

of  the  door.  She  walked  rapidly  towards  us,  and 
paused  a  few  paces  from  the  Governor,  making  a 
deep  obeisance  to  him  and  bidding  him  welcome 
to  her  poor  house  in  stately  phrases  of  deference 
and  loyalty.  Mouraki  was  silent,  surveying  her 
with  a  slight  smile.  She  grew  confused  under 
his  wordless  smiling ;  her  greetings  died  away. 
At  last  he  spoke,  in  slow  deliberate  tones : 

"  Is  this  the  lady,"  said  he,  "  who  raises  a  tumult 
and  resists  my  master's  will,  and  seeks  to  kill  a 
lord  who  comes  peaceably  and  by  lawful  right  to 
take  what  is  his?  " 

I  believe  I  made  a  motion  as  though  to  spring 
forward.  Mouraki's  expressive  face  displayed  a 
marvelling  question ;  did  I  mean  such  insolence 
as  lay  in  interrupting  him  ?  I  fell  back  ;  a  pub- 
lic remonstrance  could  earn  only  a  public  rebuff. 

"  Strange  are  the  ways  of  Neopalia,"  said  he, 
his  gaze  again  on  Phroso. 

"  I  am  at  your  mercy,  my  lord,"  she  murmured. 

"  And  what  is  this  talk  of  your  house?  What 
house  have  you  ?  I  see  here  the  house  of  this 
English  lord,  where  he  will  receive  me  cour- 
teously. Where  is  your  house  ?  " 

"  The  house  belongs  to  whom  you  will,  my 
lord,"  she  said.  "  Yet  I  have  dared  to  busy  my- 
self in  making  it  ready  for  you." 

By  this  time  I  was  nearly  at  boiling-point,  but 
still  I  controlled  myself;  I  rejoiced  that  Denny 


230  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

was  not  there,  he  and  the  others  having  resumed 
possession  of  the  yacht,  and  arranged  to  sleep 
there,  in  order  to  leave  more  room  for  Mouraki's 
accommodation.  Phroso  stood  in  patient  sub- 
mission ;  Mouraki's  eyes  travelled  over  her  from 
head  to  foot. 

"  The  other  woman  ? "  he  asked  abruptly. 
"  Your  cousin's  wife — where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  at  the  cottage  on  the  hill,  my  lord, 
with  a  woman  to  attend  on  her." 

After  another  pause  he  motioned  with  his 
hand  to  Phroso  to  take  her  place  by  him,  and 
thus  we  three  walked  up  to  the  house.  It  was 
alive  now  with  women  and  men,  and  there  was  a 
bustle  of  preparation  for  the  great  man. 

Mouraki  sat  down  in  the  arm-chair  which  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  use,  and,  addressing  an 
officer  who  seemed  to  be  his  aide-de-camp,  issued 
quick  orders  for  his  own  comfort  and  entertain- 
ment ;  then  he  turned  to  me  and  said  civilly 
enough, — 

"  Since  you  seem  reluctant  to  act  as  host,  you 
shall  be  my  guest  while  I  am  here." 

I  murmured  thanks.  He  glanced  at  Phroso 
and  waved  his  hand  in  dismissal.  She  drew 
back,  curtseying,  and  I  saw  her  mount  the  stairs 
to  her  room.  Mouraki  bade  me  sit  down,  and 
his  orderly  brought  him  cigarettes.  He  gave  me 
one  and  we  began  to  smoke, — Mouraki  watching 


Law  and  Order*  231 

the  coiling  rings,  I  furtively  studying  his  face.  I 
was  in  a  rage  at  his  treatment  of  Phroso.  But 
the  man  interested  me.  I  thought  that  he  was 
now  considering  great  matters :  the  life  of  Con- 
stantine,  perhaps,  or  the  penalties  that  he  should 
lay  on  the  people  of  Neopalia.  Yet  even  these 
would  seem  hardly  great  to  him,  who  had  moved 
in  the  world  of  truly  great  affairs,  and  was  in  his 
present  post  rather  by  a  temporary  loss  of  favour 
than  because  it  was  adequate  to  his  known  abili- 
ties. With  such  thoughts  I  studied  him  as  he 
sat  smoking  silently. 

Well,  man  is  very  human,  and  great  men  are 
often  even  more  human  than  other  men.  For 
when  Mouraki  saw  that  we  were  alone,  when  he 
had  finished  his  cigarette,  flung  it  away  and 
taken  another,  he  observed  to  me,  obviously 
summarising  the  result  of  those  meditations  to 
which  my  fancy  had  imparted  such  loftiness, — 

"Yes,  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  saw  a  hand- 
somer  girl." 

There  was  nothing  to  say  but  one  thing,  and  I 
said  it. 

"  No  more  did  I,  your  Excellency,"  said  I. 

But  I  was  not  pleased  with  the  expression  of 
Mouraki's  eyes ;  the  contentment  induced  in  me 
by  the  safety  of  my  friends,  by  my  own  escape, 
and  by  the  end  of  Constantine's  ill-used  power, 
was  suddenly  clouded  as  I  sat  and  looked  at  the 


232  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

baffling  face  and  subtle  smile  of  the  Governor. 
What  was  it  to  him  whether  Phroso  were  a  hand- 
some girl  or  not  ? 

And    I    suppose    I    might   just    as   well   have 
added, — What  was  it  to  me  ? 


CHAPTER 
The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha* 

AT  the  dinner-table  Mouraki  proved  a  charm- 
ing companion.  His  official  reserve  and  pride 
vanished ;  he  called  me  by  my  name  simply,  and 
extorted  a  like  mode  of  address  from  my  modesty. 
He  professed  rapture  at  meeting  a  civilised  and 
pleasant  companion  in  such  an  out-of-the-way 
place ;  he  postponed  the  troubles  and  problems 
of  Neopalia  in  favour  of  a  profusion  of  amusing 
reminiscences  and  pointed  anecdotes.  He  gave 
me  a  delightful  evening,  and  bade  me  the  most 
cordial  of  good-nights.  I  did  not  know  whether 
his  purpose  had  been  to  captivate  or  merely  to 
analyse  me ;  he  had  gone  near  to  the  former, 
and  I  did  not  doubt  that  he  had  succeeded 
entirely  in  the  latter.  Well,  there  was  nothing  I 
wanted  to  conceal — unless  it  might  be  something 
which  I  was  still  striving  to  conceal  even  from 
myself. 

I  rose  very  early  the  next  morning ;  the  Pasha 
was  not  expected  to  appear  for  two  or  three 
hours,  and  he  had  not  requested  my  presence  till 


234  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

ten  o'clock  breakfast.  I  hastened  off  to  the  har- 
bour, boarded  the  yacht,  enjoyed  a  merry  cup  of 
coffee  and  a  glorious  bathe  with  Denny.  Denny 
was  anxious  to  know  my  plans — whether  I  meant 
to  return  or  to  stay.  The  idea  of  departure  was 
odious  to  me ;  I  enlarged  on  the  beauties  of  the 
island,  but  Denny's  shrug  insinuated  a  doubt  of 
my  candour.  I  declared  that  I  saw  no  reason  for 
going,  but  must  be  guided  by  the  Pasha. 

"  Where's  the  girl  ?  "  asked  Denny  abruptly. 

"She's  up  at  the  house,"  I  answered  carelessly. 

"  Hum.  Heard  anything  about  Constantine 
being  hanged  ?  " 

"Not  a  word;  Mouraki  has  not  touched  on 
business." 

Denny  had  projected  a  sail,  and  was  not  turned 
from  his  purpose  by  my  unwillingness  to  accom- 
pany him.  Promising  to  meet  him  again  in  the 
evening,  I  took  my  way  back  up  the  street,  where 
a  day  or  two  ago  my  life  would  have  paid  for  my 
venturing,  where  now  I  was  as  safe  as  in  Hyde 
Park.  Women  gave  me  civil  greetings ;  the  men 
did  the  like,  or,  at  worst,  ignored  me.  I  saw  the 
soldiers  on  guard  at  Constantine's  prison,  and 
pursued  my  path  to  the  house  with  a  complacent 
smile.  My  island  was  beautiful  that  morning, 
and  the  blood  flowed  merrily  in  my  veins.  I 
thought  of  Phroso  :  where  was  the  remorse  which 
I  vainly  summoned? 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha*  235 

Suddenly  I  saw  Kortes  before  me,  walking 
along  slowly.  He  was  relieved  of  his  duty,  then, 
and  Constantine  was  no  longer  in  his  hands. 
Overtaking  him,  I  began  to  talk.  He  listened  for 
a  little,  and  then  raised  his  calm,  honest  eyes  to 
mine. 

"And  the  Lady  Phroso?"  he  said  gently. 
"What  of  her?" 

I  told  him  what  I  knew,  softening  the  story  of 
Mouraki's  harshness. 

"  You  have  not  spoken  to  her  yet  ?  "  he  asked. 
Then,  coming  a  step  nearer,  he  said,  "  She  shuns 
you  perhaps?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I,  feeling  embarrassed 
under  the  man's  direct  gaze. 

"  It  is  natural,  but  it  will  last  only  till  she  has 
seen  you  once.  I  pray  you  not  to  linger,  my 
lord.  For  she  suffers  shame  at  having  told  her 
love,  even  though  it  was  to  save  you.  It  is  hard 
for  a  maiden  to  speak  unasked." 

I  leaned  my  back-  against  the  rocky  bank  by 
the^road. 

"  Lose  no  time  in  telling  her  your  love,  my 
lord,"  he  urged.  "  It  may  be  that  she  guesses, 
but  her  shame  will  trouble  her  till  she  hears  it 
from  your  lips.  Seek  her, — seek  her  without  de- 
lay." 

I  had  forgotten  my  triumph  over  Constantine 
and  the  beauty  of  the  island  ;  I  felt  my  eyes 


236  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

drop  before  Kortes's  look.  But  I  shrugged  my 
shoulders,  saying  carelessly, — 

"  It  was  only  a  friendly  device  the  Lady  Phroso 
played  to  save  me.  She  doesn't  really  love  me. 
It  was  a  trick.  But  I'll  thank  her  for  it  heartily ; 
it  was  of  great  help  to  me,  and  a  hard  thing  for 
her  to  do." 

"  It  was  no  trick.  You  know  it  was  none. 
Wasn't  the  love  in  every  tone  of  her  voice  ?  Isn't 
it  in  every  glance  of  her  eyes  when  she  is  with 
you — and  most  when  she  won't  look  at  you  ?  " 

"  How  come  you  to  read  her  looks  so  well?" 
I  asked. 

"  From  studying  them  deeply,"  said  he  simply. 
"  I  do  not  know  if  I  love  her,  my  lord  ;  she  is  so 
much  above  me  that  my  thoughts  have  not 
dared  to  fly  to  the  height.  But  I  would  die  for 
her,  and  I  love  no  other.  To  me,  you,  my  lord, 
should  be  the  happiest,  proudest  man  alive. 
Pray  speak  to  her  soon,  my  lord.  My  sister, 
whom  you  saw  hold  her  in  her  arms,  would  have 
made  me  sure  if  I  had  doubted.  The  lady  mur- 
murs your  name  in  her  sleep." 

A  sudden  irresistible  exultation  took  hold  of 
me.  I  think  it  turned  my  face  red,  for  Kortes 
smiled,  saying,  "Ah,  you  believe  now,  my 
lord !  " 

"  Believe !  "  I  cried.  "  No,  I  don't  believe. 
A  thousand  times,  no  !  I  don't  believe  !  "  For 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  237 

I  was  crushing  that  exultation  now  as  a  man 
crushes  the  foulest  temptings. 

A  puzzled  look  invaded  Kortes's  eyes;  there 
was  silence  between  us  for  some  moments. 

"It's  absurd,"  said  I  in  weak  protest.  "She 
has  known  me  only  a  few  days, — only  a  few  hours 
rather, — and  there  were  other  things  to  think  of 
then  than  love-making." 

"  Love,"  said  he,  "  is  made  most  readily  when 
a  man  does  not  think  of  it,  and  a  stout  arm 
serves  a  suitor  better  than  soft  words.  You 
fought  against  her  and  for  her ;  you  proved 
yourself  a  man  before  her  eyes.  Fear  not,  my 
lord  ;  she  loves  you." 

"  Fear  not  !  "  I  exclaimed  in  a  low,  bitter 
whisper. 

"  She  said  it  herself,"  continued  Kortes.  "As 
her  life,  and  more." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  man !  "  I  cried  fiercely. 
"  In  the  devil's  name,  what  has  it  to  do  with 
you  ?  " 

A  great  wonder  showed  on  his  face,  then  a 
doubting  fear  ;  he  came  closer  to  me  and  whis- 
pered so  low  that  I  hardly  heard  : 

"  What  ails  you  ?  Is  it  not  well  that  she 
should  love  you  ?  " 

"  Let  me  alone,"  I  cried ;  "  I'll  not  answer 
your  questions."  Why  was  the  fellow  to  cross- 
examine  me  ?  Ah,  there's  the  guilty  man's  old 


238  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

question ;  he  loves  a  fine  mock  indignation,  and 
hugs  it  to  his  heart. 

Kortes  drew  back  a  pace  and  bowed,  as  though 
in  apology ;  but  there  was  no  apology  in  the 
glance  he  fixed  on  me.  I  would  not  look  him  in 
the  face.  I  drew  myself  up  as  tall  as  I  could, 
and  put  on  my  haughtiest  air.  If  he  could  have 
seen  how  small  I  felt  inside  ! 

"  Enough,  Kortes,"  said  I,  with  a  lordly  air. 
"  No  doubt  your  intentions  are  good,  but  you 
forget  what  is  becoming  from  you  to  me." 

He  was  not  awed  ;  and  I  think  he  perceived 
some  of  the  truth — not  all ;  for  he  said,  "  You 
made  her  love  you  ;  that  does  not  happen  unless 
a  man's  own  acts  help  it." 

"  Do  girls  never  rush  uninvited  on  love,  then  ?  " 
I  sneered. 

"  Some,  perhaps,  but  she  would  not,"  he 
answered  steadily. 

He  said  no  more ;  I  nodded  to  him  and  set 
forward  on  my  way.  He  bowed  again  slightly, 
and  stood  still  where  he  was,  watching  me.  I 
felt  his  eyes  on  me  after  we  had  parted.  I  was 
in  a  very  tumult  of  discomfort.  The  man  had 
humiliated  me  to  the  ground.  I  hoped  against 
hope  that  he  was  wrong ;  and  again,  in  helpless 
self-contradiction,  my  heart  cried  out,  insisting 
on  its  shameful  joy  because  he  was  right.  Right 
or  wrong,  wrong  or  right,  what  did  it  matter? 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  239 

Either  way  now  lay  misery,  either  way  now  lay 
a  struggle  that  I  shrank  from  and  abhorred. 

I  was  somewhat  delayed  by  this  interview,  and 
when  I  arrived  at  the  house  I  found  Mouraki 
already  at  breakfast.  He  apologised  for  not 
having  awaited  my  coming,  saying,  "  I  have 
transacted  much  business.  Oh,  I've  not  been  in 
bed  all  the  time  !  And  I  grew  hungry.  I  have 
been  receiving  some  reports  on  the  state  of  the 
island." 

"  It's  quiet  enough  now,"  I  replied.  "  Your 
arrival  has  had  a  most  calming  effect." 

"  Yes,  they  know  me,"  he  rejoined.  "  They 
are  very  much  afraid,  for  they  think  I  shall  be 
hard  on  them.  They  remember  my  last  visit." 

He  made  no  reference  to  Constantine,  and, 
although  I  wondered  rather  at  his  silence,  I  did 
not  venture  again  to  question  him.  I  wished 
that  I  knew  what  had  happened  on  his  last  visit. 
A  man  with  a  mouth  like  Mouraki's  might  cause 
anything  to  happen. 

"  I  shall  keep  them  in  suspense  a  little  while," 
he  pursued,  smiling.  "  It's  good  for  them.  Oh, 
by  the  way,  Wheatley,  you  may  as  well  take  this. 
Or  shall  I  tear  it  up?"  And  suddenly  he  held 
out  to  me  the  document  which  I  had  written  and 
given  to  Phroso  when  I  restored  the  island  to 
her. 

"  She  gave  you  this?  "  I  cried. 


240  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  She  ?  "  asked  Mouraki  with  a  smile  of  mock- 
ery. "  Is  there,  then,  only  one  woman  in  the 
world  ?  "  he  seemed  to  ask  sneeringly. 

"  The  Lady  Euphrosyne,  to  whom  I  gave  it," 
I  explained  with  what  dignity  I  could. 

"  The  Lady  Phroso,  yes,"  said  he.  ("  Hang 
his 4  Phroso !'"  thought  I.)  "I  had  her  before 
me  this  morning  and  made  her  give  it  up." 

"  I  can  only  give  it  back  to  her,  you  know." 

"  My  dear  Wheatley,  if  you  like  to  amuse 
yourself  in  that  way,  I  can  have  no  possible 
objection.  Until,  however,  you  obtain  a  firman, 
you  will  continue  to  be  Lord  of  Neopalia  and 
this  Phroso  no  more  than  a  very  rebellious  young 
lady.  But  you'll  enjoy  a  pleasant  interview  and 
no  harm  will  be  done.  Give  it  back  by  all 
means."  He  smiled  again,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  and  lit  a  cigarette.  His  manner  was 
the  perfection  of  polite,  patient,  gentlemanly 
contempt. 

"  It  seems  easier  to  get  an  island  than  to  get 
rid  of  one,"  said  I,  trying  to  carry  off  my  annoy- 
ance with  a  laugh. 

"  It  is  the  case  with  so  many  things,"  agreed 
Mouraki ;  "  debts,  diseases,  enemies,  wives, 
lovers." 

There  was  a  little  pause  before  the  last  word, 
so  slight  that  I  could  not  tell  whether  it  were 
intentional  or  not ;  and  I  had  learned  to  expect 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  241 

no  enlightenment  from  Mouraki's  face  or  eyes. 
But  he  chose  himself  to  solve  the  mystery  this 
time. 

"  Do  I  touch  delicate  ground  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Ah,  my  dear  lord,  I  find  from  my  reports  that 
in  the  account  you  gave  me  of  your  experiences 
you  let  modesty  stand  in  the  way  of  candour. 
It  was  natural  perhaps.  I  don't  blame  you,  since 
I  have  found  out  elsewhere  what  you  omitted  to 
tell  me.  Yet  it  was  hardly  a  secret,  since  every- 
body in  Neopalia  knew  it." 

I  smoked  my  cigarette,  feeling  highly  em- 
barrassed and  very  uncomfortable. 

"And  I  am  told,"  pursued  Mouraki  with  his 
malicious  smile,  "  that  the  idea  of  a  Wheatley. 
Stefanopoulos  dynasty  is  by  no  means  unpopu- 
lar. Constantine's  little  tricks  have  disgusted 
them  with  him." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  him  ? "  I 
asked,  risking  any  offence  now  in  order  to  turn 
the  topic. 

"Do  you  really  like  jumping  from  subject  to 
subject?"  asked  Mouraki  plaintively.  "I  am,  I 
suppose,  a  slow-minded  Oriental,  and  it  fatigues 
me  horribly." 

I  could  have  thrown  my  cigarette  in  his  face 
with  keen  pleasure. 

"  It  is  for  your  Excellency  to  choose  the  topic," 
said  I,  restraining  my  fury. 


242  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  Oh,  don't  let  us  have  '  Excellencies  '  when 
we're  alone  together !  Indeed  I  congratulate 
you  on  your  conquest.  She  is  magnificent ;  and 
it  was  charming  of  her  to  make  her  declaration. 
That's  what  has  pleased  the  islanders ;  they're 
romantic  savages,  after  all,  and  the  chivalry  of  it 
touches  them." 

"  It  must  touch  anybody,"  said  I. 

"Ah,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Mouraki,  flicking 
away  his  ash ;  "  I  questioned  her  a  little  about 
it  this  morning." 

"You  questioned  her?"  For  all  I  could  do 
there  was  a  question  of  anger  in  my  voice.  I 
heard  it  myself,  and  it  did  not  escape  my  com- 
panion's notice.  His  smile  grew  broader. 

"  Precisely.  I  have  to  consider  everything," 
said  he.  "  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Wheatley, 
that  I  did  it  in  the  most  delicate  manner  pos- 
sible." 

"  It  couldn't  be  done  in  a  delicate  manner." 

"  I  struggled,"  said  Mouraki,  assuming  his 
plaintive  tone  again  and  spreading  out  depreca- 
tory hands. 

Was  Mouraki  merely  amusing  himself  with  a 
little  "chaff,"  or  had  he  a  purpose?  He  seemed 
like  a  man  who  would  have  a  purpose.  I  grew 
cool  on  the  thought  of  it. 

"  And  did  the  lady  answer  your  questions?  "  I 
asked  carelessly. 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  243 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  a  treachery  in  me  to  tell  you 
what  she  said?"  countered  Mouraki. 

"  I  think  not ;  because  there's  no  doubt  that 
the  whole  thing  was  only  a  good-natured  device 
of  hers." 

"  Ah !  A  very  good-natured  device  indeed  ! 
She  must  be  an  amiable  girl,"  smiled  the  Pasha. 
"  Precisely  the  sort  of  girl  to  make  a  man's  home 
happy." 

"  She  hasn't  much  chance  of  marriage  in  Neo- 
palia,"  said  I. 

"  Heaven  makes  a  way,"  observed  Mouraki 
piously.  "  By-the-bye,  the  device  seems  to  have 
imposed  on  our  acquaintance  Kortes." 

"  Oh,  perhaps,"  I  shrugged.  "  He's  a  little 
smitten  himself,  I  think,  and  so  very  ready  to  be 
jealous." 

"  How  discriminating !  "  murmured  Mouraki 
admiringly.  "  As  a  fact,  my  dear  Wheatley,  the 
lady  said  nothing.  She  chose  to  take  offence." 

"  You  surprise  me ! "  I  exclaimed  with  elabo- 
rate sarcasm. 

"  And  wouldn't  speak.  But  her  blushes  were 
most  lovely — yes,  most  lovely.  I  envied  you, 
upon  my  word  I  did." 

"  Since  it's  not  true " 

"  Oh,  a  thing  may  be  very  pleasant  to  hear,  even 
if  it's  not  true.  Sincerity  in  love  is  an  added 
charm,  but  not,  my  dear  fellow,  a  necessity." 


244 

A  pause  followed  this  reflection  of  the  Pasha's. 
Then  he  remarked, — 

"  After  all,  we  mustn't  judge  these  people  as 
we  should  judge  ourselves.  If  Constantine 
hadn't  already  a  wife— 

"  What  ?  "  I  cried,  leaping  up. 

"  And  perhaps  that  difficulty  is  not  insupera- 
ble." 

"  He  deserves  nothing  but  hanging." 

"  A  reluctant  wife  is  hardly  better." 

"Of  course  you  don't  mean  it?" 

"  It  seems  to  disturb  you  so  much." 

"  It's  a  monstrous  idea." 

Mouraki  laughed  in  quiet  enjoyment  of  my 
excitement. 

"  Then  Kortes  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  He's  infinitely  her  inferior.  Besides — forgive 
me — why  is  it  your  concern  to  marry  her  to  any 
one?  " 

"  In  a  single  state  she  is  evidently  a  danger  to 
the  peace  of  the  island,"  he  answered  with  as- 
sumed gravity.  "  Now,  your  young  friend " 

"  Oh,  Denny's  a  boy." 

"You  reject  everyone,"  he  said  pathetically, 
and  his  eyes  dwelt  on  me  in  amused  scrutiny. 

"  Your  suggestions,  my  dear  Pasha,  seem 
hardly  serious,"  said  I  in  a  huff.  He  was  too 
many  for  me,  and  I  struggled  in  vain  against  be- 
traying my  ruffled  temper. 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  245 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  make  two  serious  sugges- 
tions ;  that  is  a  handsome  amende.  And  for  the 
first yourself  !  " 

I  waved  my  hand  and  gave  an  embarrassed 
laugh. 

"  You  say  nothing  to  that  ?  " 

"  Oughtn't  I  to  hear  the  alternative  first?  " 

"  Indeed  it  is  only  reasonable.  Well,  then,  the 

alternative "  He  paused,  laughed,  lit  another 

cigarette.  "  The  alternative  is myself,"  said 

he. 

"Still  not  serious!"  I  exclaimed,  forcing  a 
smile. 

"  Absolutely  serious,"  he  asserted.  "  I  have 
the  misfortune  to  be  a  widower,  and  for  the 
second  time, — so  unkind  is  heaven.  She  is  most 
charming.  I  have,  perhaps,  a  position  which 
would  atone  for  some  want  of  youth  and  ro- 
mantic attractions." 

"  Of  course,  if  she  likes " 

"  I  don't  think  she  would  persist  in  refusing," 
said  Mouraki  with  a  thoughtful  smile ;  and  he 
went  on,  "  Three  years  ago,  when  I  came  here, 
she  struck  me  as  a  beautiful  child,  one  likely  to 
become  a  beautiful  woman.  You  see  for  your- 
self that  I  am  not  disappointed.  My  wife  was 
alive  at  that  time,  but  in  bad  health.  Still  I 
hardly  thought  seriously  of  it  then,  and  the  idea 
did  not  recur  to  me  till  I  saw  Phroso  again.  You 
look  surprised." 


246  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Well,  I  am  surprised." 

"  You  don't  think  her  attractive,  then  ?  " 

"  Frankly,  that  is  not  the  reason  for  my  sur- 
prise." 

"  Shall  I  go  on  ?  You  think  me  old?  It  is  a 
young  man's  delusion,  my  dear  Wheatley." 

Bear-baiting  may  have  been  excellent  sport, — 
its  defenders  so  declare, — but  I  do  not  remember 
that  it  was  ever  considered  pleasant  for  the  bear. 
I  felt  now  much  as  the  bear  must  have  felt.  I 
rose  abruptly  from  the  table. 

"  All  these  things  require  thought,"  said  Mou- 
raki  gently.  "  We  will  talk  of  them  again  this 
afternoon.  I  have  a  little  business  to  do  now." 

Saying  this,  he  rose  and  leisurely  took  his  way 
upstairs.  I  was  left  alone  in  the  hall  so  familiar 
to  me  ;  and  my  first  thought  was  a  regret  that  I 
was  not  again  a  prisoner  there,  with  Constantine 
seeking  my  life,  Phroso  depending  on  my  pro- 
tection, and  Mouraki  administering  some  other 
portion  of  his  district.  That  condition  of  things 
had  been,  no  doubt,  rather  too  exciting  to  be 
pleasant ;  but  it  had  not  made  me  harassed, 
wretched,  humiliated,  exasperated  almost  beyond 
endurance  ;  and  such  was  the  mood  in  which  the 
two  conversations  of  the  morning  left  me. 

A  light  step  sounded  on  the  stair ;  the  figure 
that  of  all  figures  I  least  wished  to  see  then,  that 
I  rejoiced  to  see  more  than  any  in  the  world  be- 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha,  247 

sides,  appeared  before  me.  Phroso  came  down. 
She  reached  the  floor  of  the  hall  and  she  saw  me. 
For  a  long  moment  we  each  rested  as  we  were. 
Then  she  stepped  towards  me,  and  I  rose  with  a 
bow.  She  was  very  pale,  but  a  smile  came  on 
her  lips  as  she  murmured  a  greeting  to  me  and 
passed  on.  I  should  have  done  better  to  let  her 
go.  I  rose  and  followed.  On  the  marble  pave- 
ment by  the  threshold  I  overtook  her ;  there  we 
stood  again,  looking  on  the  twinkling  sea  in  the 
distance,  as  we  had  looked  before.  I  was  seeking 
what  to  say. 

"  I  must  thank  you,"  I  said,  "  yet  I  can't.  It 
was  magnificent." 

The  colour  suddenly  flooded  her  face. 

"You  understood?"  she  murmured.  "You 
understood  why  ?  It  seemed  the  only  way. 
And  I  think  it  did  help  a  little." 

I  bent  down  and  kissed  her  hand. 

"  I  don't  care  whether  it  helped,"  I  said.  "  It 
was  the  thing  itself." 

"  I  didn't  care  for  them — the  people — but 

when  I  thought  what  you  would  think "  She 

could  not  go  on,  but  drew  her  hand,  which  she 
had  left  an  instant  in  mine  as  though  forgetful  of 
it,  suddenly  away. 

"  I 1  knew,  of  course,  that  it  was  only  a 

a  stratagem,"  said  I.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  knew  that 

directly." 


248  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"Yes,"  whispered  she,  looking  over  the  sea. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  also  looking  over  the  sea. 

"  You  forgive  it  ?  " 

"  Forgive !  "  My  voice  came  low  and  husky. 
I  did  not  see  why  such  things  should  be  laid  on 
a  man ;  I  did  not  know  if  I  could  endure  them. 
Yet  I  would  not  have  left  her  then  for  an  angel's 
crown. 

"And  you  will  forget  it?  I  mean,  you ?" 

The  whisper  died  into  silence. 

"  So  long  as  I  live,  I  will  not  forget  it,"  said  I. 

Then,  by  a  seemingly  irresistible  impulse  that 
came  upon  both  of  us,  we  looked  in  one  another's 
eyes, — a  long  look  that  lingered  and  was  loth  to 
end.  As  I  looked,  I  saw,  in  joy  that  struggled 
with  shame,  a  new  light  in  the  glowing  depths  of 
Phroso's  eyes,  a  greeting  of  an  undreamt  happi- 
ness, a  terrified  delight.  Then  her  lids  drooped 
and  she  began  to  speak  quietly  and  low. 

"  It  came  on  me  that  I  might  help  if  I  said  it, 
because  the  islanders  love  me,  and  so,  perhaps, 
they  wouldn't  hurt  you.  But  I  couldn't  look  at 
you.  I  only  prayed  you  would  understand,  that 

you  wouldn't  think oh,  that  you  wouldn't 

think that of  me,  my  lord  !  And  I  didn't 

know  how  to  meet  you  to-day,  but  I  had  to." 

I  stood  silent  beside  her,  curiously  conscious  of 
every  detail  of  nature's  picture  before  me ;  for  I 
had  turned  from  her  again,  and  my  eyes  roamed 


The  Smiles  of  Mcmraki  Pasha*  249 

over  sea  and  island.  But  at  that  moment  there 
came  from  one  of  the  narrow  windows  of  the 
old  house,  directly  above  our  heads,  the  sound  of 
a  low,  amused,  luxurious  chuckle.  A  look  of 
dread  and  shrinking  spread  over  Phroso's  face. 

"  Ah,  that  man  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  an  agitated 
whisper. 

"  What  of  him  ?  " 

"  He  has  been  here  before.  I  have  seen  him 
smile  and  heard  him  laugh  like  that  when  he 
sent  men  to  death  and  looked  on  while  they  died. 
Yes,  men  of  our  own  island,  men  who  had  served 
us  and  were  our  friends.  Ah,  he  frightens  me, 
that  man  !  "  She  shuddered,  stretching  out  her 
hand  in  an  unconscious  gesture  as  though  she 
would  ward  off  some  horrible  thing.  "  I  have 
heard  him  laugh  like  that  when  a  woman  asked 
her  son's  life  of  him  and  a  girl  her  lover's.  It 
kills  me  to  be  near  him.  He  has  no  pity.  My 
lord,  intercede  with  him  for  the  islanders.  They 
are  ignorant  men  ;  they  did  not  know." 

"  Not  one  shall  be  hurt,  if  I  can  help  it,"  said 

I  earnestly.    "  But '     I  stopped  ;  yet  I  would 

go  on,  and  I  added,  "  Have  you  no  fear  of  him 
yourself  ?  " 

"  What  can  he  do  tome?"  she  asked.     "He 

talked  to  me  this  morning  about about  you.    I 

hate  to  talk  with  him.    But  what  can  he  do  to  me  ?  " 

I  was  silent.     Mouraki  had  not  hinted  to  her 


250  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

the  idea  which  he  had  suggested — in  puzzling 
ambiguity  between  jest  and  earnest — to  me.  Her 
eyes  questioned  me ;  then  suddenly  she  laid  her 
hand  on  my  arm,  and  said, — 

"  And  you  would  protect  me,  my  lord.  While 
you  were  here,  I  should  be  safe." 

"While!"  The  little  word  struck  cold  on  my 
heart ;  my  eyes  showed  her  the  blow ;  in  a 
minute  she  understood.  She  raised  her  hand 
from  where  it  lay  and  pointed  out  towards  the 
sea.  I  saw  the  pretty,  trim  little  yacht  running 
home  for  the  harbour  after  her  morning  cruise. 

"  Yes,  while  you  are  here,  my  lord,"  she  said 
with  the  most  pitiful  of  brave  smiles. 

"  As  long  as  you  want  me,  I  shall  be  here,"  I 
assured  her. 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  mine  ;  the  colour  came 
again  to  her  face. 

"  As  long  as  you  are  in  any  danger,"  I  added 
in  explanation. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  said  she,  with  a  sigh  and  drooping 
eyelids ;  and  she  went  on  in  a  moment,  as  though 
recollecting  a  civility  due  and  not  paid,  "You 
are  very  good  to  me,  my  lord.  For  your  island 
has  treated  you  unkindly,  and  you  will  be  glad 
to  sail  away  from  it  to  your  home." 

"  It  is,"  said  I,  bending  towards  her,  "  the  most 
beautiful  island  in  the  world,  and  I  would  love  to 
stay  in  it  all  my  life." 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  251 

Again  the  pleased,  contented  chuckle  sounded 
from  the  window  over  our  heads.  It  seemed  to 
strike  Phroso  with  a  new  fit  of  sudden  fear. 
With  a  faint  cry  she  darted  out  her  hand  and 
seized  mine. 

"  Don't  be  afraid.     He  sha'n't  hurt  you, ".said  I. 

A  moment  later  we  heard  steps  descending  the 
stairs  inside  the  house.  Mouraki  appeared  on 
the  threshold.  Phroso  had  sprung  away  from 
me  and  stood  a  few  paces  off.  Yet  Mouraki 
knew  that  we  had  not  stood  thus  distantly  before 
his  steps  were  heard.  He  looked  at  Phroso  and 
then  at  me ;  a  blush  from  her,  a  scowl  from  me, 
filled  any  gaps  in  his  knowledge.  He  stood 
there  smiling — I  began  to  hate  the  Pasha's 
smiles — for  a  moment,  and  then  came  forward. 
He  bowed  slightly  but  civilly  enough  to  Phroso ; 
then,  to  my  astonishment,  he  took  my  hand  and 
began  to  shake  it  with  a  great  appearance  of  cor- 
diality. 

"  Really,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  I.  "  What's 
the  matter?  " 

"The  matter?"  he  cried  in  high  good-humour, 
or  what  seemed  such.  "The  matter?  Why, 
the  matter,  my  dear  Wheatley,  is  that  you  ap- 
pear to  be  both  a  very  discreet  fellow  and  a  very 
fortunate  one." 

"  I  don't  understand  yet,"  said  I,  trying  to 
hide  my  growing  irritation. 


252  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Surely  it's  no  secret  ? "  he  asked.  "  It  is 
generally  known,  isn't  it !  " 

"  What's  generally  known  ?  "  I  fairly  roared  in 
an  exasperation  that  mastered  all  self-control. 

The  Pasha  was  not  in  the  very  least  disturbed. 
He  held  a  bundle  of  letters  in  his  left  hand,  and 
he  began  now  to  sort  them.  He  ended  by 
choosing  one,  which  he  held  up  before  me,  with 
a  malicious  humour  twinkling  from  under  his 
heavy  brows. 

"  I  get  behindhand  in  my  correspondence  when 
I'm  on  a  voyage,"  said  he.  "  This  letter  came  to 
Rhodes  about  a  week  ago,  together  with  a  mass 
of  public  papers,  and  I  have  only  this  morning 
opened  it.  It  concerns  you." 

"  Concerns  me  ?     Pray  in  what  way  ?  " 

"  Or  rather  it  mentions  you." 

"  Who  is  it  from  ?  "  I  asked.  The  man's  face 
was  full  of  triumphant  spite,  and  I  grew  uneasy. 

"  It  is,"  said  he,  "  from  our  Ambassador  in 
London.  I  think  you  know  him." 

"Slightly." 

"  Precisely." 

"Well?" 

"  He  asks  how  you  are  getting  on  in  Neopalia, 
or  whether  I  have  any  news  of  you." 

"You'll  be  able  to  ansAverhim  now." 

"  Yes,  yes,  with  great  satisfaction.  And  he  will 
be  able  to  satisfy  some  inquiries  which  he  has  had." 


The  Smiles  of  Mouraki  Pasha.  253 

I  knew  what  was  coming  now.  Mouraki 
beamed  pleasure.  I  set  my  face.  At  Phroso, 
who  stood  near  all  this  while  in  silence,  I  dared 
not  look. 

"  From  a  certain  lady  who  is  most  anxious 
about  you." 

"  Ah  ! " 

"A  Miss  Hipgrave — Miss  Beatrice  Hipgrave." 

"  Ah,  yes  ! " 

"  Who  is  a  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  Pasha." 

"  Who  is,  in  fact — let  me  shake  hands  again — 
your  future  wife.  A  thousand  congratulations !  " 

"  Oh,  thanks,  you're  very  kind,"  said  I.  "  Yes, 
she  is." 

I  declare  that  I  must  have  played  this  scene — 
no  easy  one — well,  for  Mouraki's  rapturous 
amusement  disappeared.  He  seemed  rather  put 
out.  He  looked  (and  I  hope  felt)  a  trifle  foolish. 
I  kept  a  cool,  careless  glance  on  him. 

But  his  triumph  came  from  elsewhere.  He 
turned  from  me  to  Phroso,  and  my  eyes  followed 
his.  She  stood  rigid,  frozen,  lifeless ;  she  de- 
voured my  face  with  an  appealing  gaze.  She 
made  no  sign  and  uttered  no  sound.  Mouraki 
smiled  again  ;  and  I  said, — 

"Any  London  news,  my  dear  Pasha?" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  Stroke  in  the  Game. 

I  WAS  glad ;  as  soon  as  I  was  alone  and  had 
time  to  think  over  Mouraki's  coup  I  was  glad. 
He  had  ended  a  false  position  into  which  my 
weakness  had  led  me ;  he  had  rendered  it  possi- 
ble for  me  to  serve  Phroso  in  friendship  pure 
and  simple ;  he  had  decided  a  struggle  which  I 
had  failed  to  decide  for  myself.  It  would  be 
easy  now  (so  I  told  myself)  for  both  of  us  to  re- 
pose on  that  fiction  of  a  good-natured  device  and 
leave  our  innermost  feelings  in  decent  obscurity, 
while  we  counter-worked  the  scheme  which  the 
Pasha  had  in  view.  The  scheme  he  proceeded  to 
forward  with  all  the  patience  and  ability  of  which 
he  was  master.  For  the  next  week  or  so  matters 
seemed  to  stand  still,  but  to  a  closer  study  they 
revealed  slow  yet  uninterrupted  movement.  I 
was  left  almost  entirely  alone  at  the  house  ;  but 
I  could  not  bring  myself  to  abandon  my  position 
and  seek  the  society  of  my  friends  on  the  yacht. 
Though  reduced  to  idleness  and  robbed  of  any 
part  in  the  drama,  I  would  not  forsake  the  stage, 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  255 

but  lagged  a  superfluous  spectator  of  an  unpleas- 
ing  piece.  Mouraki  was  at  work.  HesawPhroso 
every  day  and  for  long  interviews.  I  hardly  set 
my  eyes  on  her.  The  affairs  of  the  island  af- 
forded him  a  constant  pretext  for  conferring 
with  or  dictating  to  its  Lady  ;  I  had  no  excuse 
for  forcing  an  intercourse  which  Phroso  evidently 
was  at  pains  to  avoid.  I  could  imagine  the 
Pasha's  progress  ;  not  in  favour  or  willing  accept- 
ance, for  I  knew  her  fear  and  hatred  of  him,  but 
in  beating  down  her  courage  and  creating  a  de- 
spair which  would  serve  him  as  well  as  love.  Be- 
yond doubt  he  was  serious  in  his  design  ;  his 
cool  patience  spoke  settled  purpose,  his  obvious 
satisfaction  declared  a  conviction  of  success. 
He  acquiesced  in  Phroso's  seclusion,  save  when 
he  sent  for  her ;  he  triumphed  in  watching  me 
spend  weary  hours  in  solitary  pacing  up  and 
down  before  the  house :  he  would  look  at  me 
with  a  covert  exultation  and  amuse  himself  by  a 
renewal  of  sympathetic  congratulations  on  my 
engagement.  I  do  not  think  that  he  wished  me 
away.  I  was  the  sauce  to  his  dish,  the  garlic  in 
the  salad,  the  spice  in  the  sweetmeat  over  which 
he  licked  appreciative  lips.  Thus  passed  eight 
or  ten  days,  and  I  grew  more  out  of  temper, 
more  sour,  and  more  determined  with  every  set- 
ting sun.  Denny  ceased  to  pray  my  company : 
I  was  not  to  be  moved  from  the  neighbourhood 


2 $6  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

of  the  house.  I  waited,  the  Pasha  waited  ;  he 
paved  his  way,  I  lay  in  ambush  by  it ;  he  was 
bent  on  conquering  Phroso,  I  had  no  design, 
only  a  passionate  resolve  that  he  should  try  a 
fall  with  me  first. 

There  came  a  dark  stormy  evening,  when  the 
clouds  sent  down  a  thick,  close  rain,  and  the 
wind  blew  in  mournful  gusts.  Having  escaped 
from  Mouraki's  talk,  I  had  watched  him  go  up- 
stairs, and  myself  had  come  out  to  pace  again 
my  useless  beat.  I  strayed  a  few  hundred  yards 
from  the  house,  and  turned  to  look  at  the  light 
in  the  Governor's  window.  It  shone  bright  and 
steady,  seeming  to  typify  his  relentless,  unwaver- 
ing purpose ;  a  sudden  oath  escaped  from  the 
weary  sickness  of  my  heart ;  there  came  an  un- 
looked-for answer  from  my  elbow. 

"  He  acts,  you  talk,  my  lord.  He  works,  you 
are  content  to  curse  him.  Which  will  win?" 
said  a  grave  voice;  and  Kortes's  handsome 
figure  was  dimly  visible  in  the  darkness.  "  He 
works,  she  weeps,  you  curse.  Who  will  win  ?  " 
he  asked  again,  folding  his  arms. 

"  Your  question  carries  its  own  answer,  doesn't 
it  ?  "  I  retorted  angrily. 

"  Yes,  if  I  have  put  it  right,"  said  he.  There 
was  a  touch  of  scorn  in  his  voice  that  I  did  not 
care  to  hear.  "  Yes,  it  carries  its  own  answer,  if 
you  are  content  to  leave  it  as  I  stated  it." 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game*  257 

"  Content !     Good  God  !  " 

He  drew  nearer  to  me  and  whispered  : 

"This  morning  he  told  her  his  purpose;  this 
evening  again — yes,  now,  while  we  talk — he  is 
forcing  it  on  her.  And  what  help  has  she?  " 

"  She  won't  let  me  help  her  ;  she  won't  let  me 
see  her." 

"  How  can  you  help  her,  you  who  do  nothing 
but  curse  ?'' 

"  Look  here,  Kortes,"  said  I,  "  I  know  all  that. 
I'm  a  fool,  and  a  worm,  and  everything  else  you 
like  to  intimate.  But  your  contempt  doesn't 
seem  much  more  practical  than  my  cursing. 
What's  in  your  mind  ?  " 

"  You  must  keep  faith  with  this  lady  in  your 
own  land  ?  " 

"  You  know  of  her  ?  " 

"  My  sister  has  told  me — she  who  waits  on  the 
Lady  Euphrosyne." 

"  Ah  !     Yes,  I  must  keep  faith  with  her." 

"And  with  Mouraki?"  he  asked. 

My  mind  travelled  with  his ;  I  caught  him 
eagerly  by  the  arm.  I  had  his  idea  in  a  moment. 

"Why  that?"  I  asked.  "Yes,  Kortes,  why 
that?" 

"  I  thought  you  were  so  scrupulous,  my  lord." 

"  I  have  no  scruples  in  deceiving  this  Mou- 
raki." 

"  That's  better,  my  lord,"  he  answered  with  a 


258  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

grim  smile.  "  By  heavens,  I  thought  we  were  to 
dance  together  at  the  wedding  ! " 

"The  wedding?"  I  cried.  "I  think  not. 
Kortes,  do  you  mean —  —  ?  "  I  made  a  gesture 
that  indicated  some  violence  to  Mouraki.  But  I 
added,  "  It  must  be  open  fight,  though." 

"You  mustn't  touch  a  hair  of  his  head.  The 
island  would  answer  bitterly  for  that." 

We  stood  in  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  I 
gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  My  character  is  my  own,"  said  I.  "  I  may 
blacken  it,  if  I  like." 

"  It  is  only  in  the  eyes  of  Mouraki  Pasha," 
said  Kortes  with  a  smile. 

"  But  she will  she  understand  ?  There 

must  be  no  more " 

"  She  will  understand.     You  shall  see  her." 

"  You  can  contrive  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  with  my  sister's  help.  Will  you  tell 
Mouraki  first  ?  " 

"  No — her  first.     She  may  refuse." 

"She  loathes  him  too  much  to  refuse  any- 
thing." 

"Good.     When,  then?" 

"  To-night.     She  will  leave  him  soon." 

"  But  he  watches  her  to  her  room." 

"  Yes  ;  but  you,  my  lord,  know  that  there  is 
another  way." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  by  the  roof  ?     The  ladder  ?  " 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  259 

"  It  shall  be  there  for  you  in  an  hour." 

"And  you,  Kortes?" 

"I'll  wait  at  the  foot  of  it.  The  Pasha  him- 
self should  not  mount  it  alive." 

"  Kortes,  it  is  trusting  me  much." 

"  I  know,  my  lord.  If  you  were  not  a  man  to 
be  trusted,  you  would  do  what  you  are  going  to 
pretend." 

"  I  hope  you're  right.  Kortes,  it  sets  me 
aflame  now  to  be  near  her." 

"Can't  I  understand  that,  my  lord ?"  said  he 
with  a  sad  smile. 

"  By  heaven,  you're  a  good  fellow  !  " 

"  I  am  a  servant  of  the  Stefanopouloi." 

"  Your  sister  will  tell  her  before  I  come  ?  I 
couldn't  tell  her  myself." 

"Yes  ;  she  shall  be  told  before  you  come." 

"In  an  hour,  then?" 

"  Yes."  And,  without  another  word,  he  strode 
by  me.  I  caught  his  hand  as  he  went,  and 
pressed  it.  Then  I  was  alone  in  the  darkness 
again,  but  with  a  plan  in  my  head  and  a  weapon 
in  my  hand,  and  no  more  empty,  useless  cursings 
in  my  mouth.  Busily  rehearsing  the  part  I  was 
to  play,  I  resumed  my  quick  pacing.  It  was  a 
hard  part,  but  a  good  part ;  I  would  match 
Mouraki  with  his  own  weapons  ;  my  cynicism 
should  beat  his,  my  indifference  to  the  claims  of 
honour  overtop  his  shameless  use  of  terror  or  of 


260  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

force.  The  smiles  should  now  be  not  all  the 
Pasha's ;  I  would  have  a  smile  too,  one  that 
would,  I  trusted,  compel  a  scowl  even  from  his 
smooth,  inscrutable  face. 

I  was  walking  quickly  ;  on  a  sudden  I  came 
almost  in  contact  with  a  man,  who  leaped  on  one 
side  to  avoid  me.  "  Who's  there  ?  "  I  cried, 
standing  on  my  defence,  as  I  had  learned  was 
wise  in  Neopalia. 

"  It  is  I ;  Demetri,"  answered  a  sullen  voice. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  Demetri  ?  And 
with  your  gun  !  " 

"  I  walk  by  night,  like  my  lord." 

"  Your  walks  by  night  have  had  a  meaning 
before  now." 

"They  mean  no  harm  to  you  now." 

"  Harm  to  any  one  ?  " 

A  pause  followed  before  his  gruff  voice  an- 
swered,— 

"  Harm  to  nobody.  What  harm  can  be  done 
when  my  gracious  Lord  the  Governor  is  on  the 
island  and  watches  over  it  ?  " 

"  True,  Demetri.  He  has  small  mercy  for 
wrongdoers  and  turbulent  fellows,  such  as  some 
I  know  of." 

"  I  know  him  as  well  as  you,  my  lord,  and 
better,"  said  the  fellow,  his  voice  charged  with  a 
passionate  hate.  "  Yes,  there  are  many  in  Neo- 
palia who  know  Mouraki." 

- 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  261 

"  So  says  Mouraki ;  and  he  says  it  as  though 
it  pleased  him." 

"  One  day  he  shall  have  proof  enough  to  sat- 
isfy him,"  growled  Demetri. 

The  savage  rage  of  the  fellow's  tone  had 
caught  my  attention,  and  I  gazed  intently  into 
his  face  ;  not  even  the  darkness  quite  hid  the 
angry  gleam  of  his  deep-set  eyes. 

"  Demetri,  Demetri,"  said  I,  "  aren't  you  on  a 
dangerous  path  ?  I  see  a  long  knife  in  your  belt 
there,  and  that  gun, — isn't  it  loaded  ?  Come,  go 
back  to  your  home." 

He  seemed  influenced  by  my  remonstrances, 
but  he  denied  the  suggestion  I  made. 

"  I  don't  seek  his  life,"  he  said  sullenly.  "  If 

we  were  strong  enough  to  fight  openly well, 

I  say  nothing  of  that.  He  killed  my  brother, 
my  lord." 

"  I  killed  a  brother  of  yours  too,  Demetri." 

"  Yes,  in  honest  fighting,  when  he  sought  to 
kill  you.  You  didn't  half  kill  him  with  the  lash, 
before  his  mother's  eyes,  and  finish  the  work 
with  a  rope." 

"Mouraki  did?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord.  But  it  is  nothing,  my  lord.  I 
mean  no  harm." 

"  Look  here,  Demetri.  I  don't  love  Mouraki 
myself,  and  you  did  me  a  good  turn  a  little  while 
ago.  But  if  I  find  you  hanging  about  here  again 


262  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

with  your  gun  and  your  knife,  I'll  tell  Mouraki, 
as  sure  as  I'm  alive.  Where  I  come  from,  we 
don't  assassinate.  Do  you  see?  " 

"  I  hear,  my  lord.  Indeed  I  had  no  such  pur- 
pose." 

"  You  know  your  purpose  best ;  and  now  you 
know  what  I  shall  do.  Come,  be  off  with  you, 
and  don't  show  yourself  here  again." 

He  cringed  before  me  with  renewed  protesta- 
tions ;  but  his  invention  provided  no  excuse  for 
his  presence.  He  swore  to  me  that  I  wronged 
him.  I  contented  myself  with  ordering  him  off, 
and  at  last  he  went  off,  striking  back  towards 
the  village.  "  Upon  my  word,"  said  I,  "  it's  a 
nuisance  to  be  honourably  brought  up."  For  it 
would  have  been  marvellously  convenient  to  let 
Demetri  have  a  shot  at  the  Pasha  with  that  gun 
of  his,  or  a  stab  with  the  long  knife  he  had  fin- 
gered so  affectionately. 

This  encounter  had  passed  the  time  of  wait- 
ing, and  now  I  strolled  back  to  the  house.  It 
was  hard  on  midnight  ;  the  light  in  Mouraki's 
window  was  extinguished ;  two  soldiers  stood 
sentry  by  the  closed  door.  They  let  me  in  and 
locked  the  door  behind  me :  this  watch  was  not 
kept  on  me ;  Mouraki  knew  very  well  that  I  had 
no  desire  to  leave  the  island.  Phroso  was  the 
prisoner  and  the  prize  that  the  Pasha  guarded ; 
perhaps,  also,  he  had  an  inkling  that  he  was  not 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game*  263 

popular  in  Neopalia,  and  that  he  would  not  be 
wise  to  trust  to  the  loyalty  of  its  inhabitants. 

Soon  I  found  myself  in  the  compound  at  the 
back  of  the  house.  The  ladder  was  placed  ready  ; 
Kortes  stood  beside  it.  There  seemed  to  be 
nobody  else  about ;  the  rain  still  fell,  and  the 
wind  had  risen  till  it  whistled  wildly  in  the  wood. 

"  She's  waiting  for  you,"  whispered  Kortes. 
"She  knows,  and  she  will  second  the  plan." 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  On  the  roof.  She's  wrapped  in  my  cloak ; 
she  will  take  no  hurt." 

"  And  Mouraki  ?  " 

"  He's  gone  to  bed.  She  was  with  him  two 
hours." 

I  mounted  the  ladder  and  found  myself  on  the 
flat  roof  where  once  Phroso  had  stood  gazing  up 
towards  the  cottage  on  the  hill.  We  were  right- 
ing Constantine  then  :  Mouraki  was  our  foe  now. 
Constantine  lay  a  prisoner,  harmless,  as  it  seemed, 
and  helpless.  I  prayed  for  a  like  good  fortune 
in  the  new  enterprise.  An  instant  later  I  found 
Phroso's  hand  in  mine.  I  carried  it  to  my  lips 
as  I  murmured  my  greeting  in  a  hushed  voice ; 
the  first  answer  to  it  was  a  nervous  sob,  but 
Phroso  followed  it  with  a  pleading  apology. 

"  I'm  so  tired,"  she  said,  "  so  tired.  I  have 
fought  him  for  two  hours  to-night.  Forgive  me. 
I  will  be  brave,  my  lord." 


264  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  had  determined  on  a  cold,  business-like  man- 
ner ;  I  went  as  straight  to  the  point  as  a  busy 
man  in  his  city  office. 

"  You  know  the  plan  ?  You  consent  to  it  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Yes.  I  think  I  understand  it.  It  is  good  of 
you,  my  lord.  For  you  may  run  great  danger 
through  me." 

That  was  indeed  true,  and  in  more  senses  than 
one. 

"  I  do  for  you  what  you  did  not  hesitate  to  do 
for  me,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,"  said  Phroso  in  a  very  low  whisper. 

"  You  pretended  ;  well  then,  now  I  pretend." 
My  voice  sounded  not  only  cold,  but  bitter  and 
unpleasant.  "  I  think  it  may  succeed,"  I  con- 
tinued. "  He  won't  dare  to  take  any  extreme 
steps  against  me.  I  don't  see  how  he  can  pre- 
vent our  going." 

"  He  will  let  us  go,  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  he  can  refuse.  And  where 
will  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  have  some  friends  at  Athens — people  who 
knew  my  father." 

"Good.  I'll  take  you  there  and "  I 

paused.  "  I'll I'll  take  you  there  and " 

Again  I  paused  ;  I  could  not  help  it.  " — and 
leave  you  there  in  safety,"  I  ended  at  last  in  a 
gruff,  harsh  whisper. 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  265 

"  Yes,  my  lord.  And  then  you  will  go  home 
in  safety?  " 

"  Perhaps.     That  doesn't  matter." 

"Yes,  it  does  matter,"  said  she  softly.  "  For  I 
would  not  be  in  safety  unless  you  were." 

"Ah,  Phroso,  don't  do  that!"  I  groaned  in- 
wardly. 

"  Yes,  you  will  go  back  in  safety,  back  to  your 
own  land — back  to  the  lady " 

"  Never  mind "  I  began. 

"  Back  to  the  lady  whom  my  lord  loves,"  whis- 
pered Phroso.  "  Then  you  will  forget  this 

troublesome  island,  and  the  troublesome the 

troublesome  people  on  it." 

Her  face  was  no  more  than  a  foot  from  mine 
— pale,  with  sad  eyes  and  a  smile  that  quivered 
on  trembling  lips — the  fairest  face  in  the  world 
that  I  had  seen  or  believed  any  man  to  have 
seen  ;  and  her  hand  rested  in  mine.  There  may 
live  men  who  would  have  looked  over  her  head 
and  not  in  those  eyes — saints  or  dolts — I  was 
neither ;  not  I.  I  looked.  I  looked  as  though  I 
should  never  look  elsewhere  again,  nor  cared  to 
live  if  I  could  not  look.  But  Phroso's  hand  was 
drawn  from  mine  and  her  eyes  fell.  I  had  to 
end  the  silence. 

"  I  shall  go  straight  to  Mouraki  to-morrow 
morning,"  said  I,  "  and  tell  him  you  have  agreed 
to  be  my  wife  ;  that  you  will  come  with  me 


266  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

under  the  care  of  Kortes  and  his  sister,  and  that 
we  shall  be  married  on  the  first  opportunity. 

"  But  he  knows  about about  the  lady  you 

love." 

"  It  won't  surprise  Mouraki  to  hear  that  I  am 

going  to  break  my  faith  with the  lady  I  love," 

said  I. 

"  No,"  said  Phroso,  refusing  resolutely  to  look 
at  me  again.  "  It  won't  surprise  Mouraki." 

"  Perhaps  it  wouldn't  surprise  any  one." 

Phroso  made  no  comment  on  this.  And  on 
the  moment  that  I  said  it,  I  heard  a  voice  below, 
a  voice  I  knew  very  well. 

"What's  the  ladder  here  for,  my  friend?"  it 
asked. 

"  It  enables  one  to  ascend  or  descend,  my 
lord,"  answered  Kortes's  grave  voice,  without 
the  least  touch  of  irony. 

"  It's  Mouraki,"  whispered  Phroso.  At  the 
time  of  danger  her  frightened  eyes  came  back  to 
mine,  and  she  drew  nearer  to  me.  "  It's  Mouraki, 
my  lord." 

"I  know  it  is,"  said  I  :  "so  much  the  better." 

"  That  seems  probable,"  observed  Mouraki. 
"  But  to  enable  whom  to  ascend  and  descend, 
friend  Kortes  ?  " 

"  Any  one  who  desires,  my  lord." 

"  Then  I  will  ascend,"  said  Mouraki. 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  my  lord  !  " 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  267 

"Stand  aside,  sir.     What,  you  dare ?" 

"  Run  back  to  your  room,"  I  whispered. 
"  Quick.  Good-night."  I  caught  her  hand  and 
pressed  it.  She  turned  and  disappeared  swiftly 
through  the  door  which  gave  access  to  the  inside 
of  the  house  and  thence  to  her  room.  And  I — 
glad  that  the  interview  had  been  interrupted,  for 
I  could  have  borne  little  more  of  it — walked  to 
the  battlements  and  looked  over.  Kortes  stood 
like  a  wall  between  the  astonished  Mouraki^  and 
the  ladder. 

"  Kortes,  Kortes,"  I  cried  in  a  tone  of  grieved 
surprise,  "  is  it  possible  that  you  don't  recognise 
his  Excellency  ?  " 

"  Why,  Wheatley  ! '"  cried  Mouraki. 

"  Who  else  should  it  be,  my  dear  Pasha  ?  Will 
you  come  up,  or  shall  I  come  down  and  join 
you?  Out  of  the  way,  Kortes." 

Kortes,  who  would  not  obey  Mouraki,  obeyed 
me.  Mouraki  seemed  to  hesitate  about  mount- 
ing. I  solved  the  difficulty  by  descending  rap- 
idly. I  was  smiling,  and  I  took  the  Pasha  by  the 
arm,  saying  with  a  laugh, — 

"Caught  that  time,  I'm  afraid,  eh?  Well,  I 
meant  to  tell  you  soon." 

I  had  certainly  succeeded  in"  astonishing  Mou- 
raki. Kortes  added  to  his  wonder  by  springing 
nimbly  up  the  ladder  and  pulling  it  up  after  him. 

"I  thought  you  were  in  bed,"  said   I.     "And 


268  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

when  the  cat's  away  the  mice  will  play,  you 
know.  Well,  we're  caught !  " 

"  We  ?  "  asked  the  Pasha. 

"  Well,  do  you  suppose  I  was  alone  ?  Is  it  the 
sort  of  night  a  man  chooses  to  spend  alone  on  a 
roof?" 

"Who  was  with  you,  then?"  he  asked,  sus- 
picion alive  in  his  crafty  eyes. 

I  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led  him  into  the 
house,  through  the  kitchen,  till  we  reached  the 
hall,  when  I  said, — 

"  Am  I  not  a  man  of  taste  ?  Who  should  it 
be?" 

He  sat  down  in  the  great  arm-chair,  and  a 
heavy  frown  gathered  on  his  brow.  I  cannot 
quite  explain  why,  but  I  was  radiant.  The  spirit 
of  the  game  had  entered  into  me ;  I  forgot  the 
reality  that  was  so  full  of  pain  ;  I  was  as  merry 
as  though  what  I  told  him  had  been  the  happy 
truth  instead  of  a  tantalising,  impossible  vision. 

"  Oh,  don't  misunderstand  me,"  I  laughed, 
standing  opposite  to  him,  swaying  on  my  feet, 
and  burying  my  hands  in  my  pockets.  "  Don't 
wrong  me,  my  dear  Pasha.  It's  all  just  as  it 
should  be.  There's  nothing  going  on  that  should 
not  go  on  under  your  Excellency's  roof.  It  is 
all  on  the  most  honourable  footing." 

"  I  don't  understand  your  riddles  or  your 
mirth,"  said  Mouraki. 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game.  269 

"  Ah !  Now  once  I  didn't  quite  appreciate 
yours.  The  wheel  goes  round,  my  dear  Pasha. 
Every  dog  has  his  day.  Forgive  me,  I  am 
naturally  elated.  I  meant  to  tell  you  at  break- 
fast to-morrow,  but  since  you  surprised  our  ten- 
der meeting,  why,  I'll  tell  you  now.  Congratu- 
late me.  That  charming  girl  has  owned  that  her 
avowal  of  love  for  me  was  nothing  but  bare 
truth,  and  has  consented  to  make  me  happy." 

"  To  marry  you  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Pasha  !  What  else  could  I  mean  ?  " 
I  took  my  hands  out  of  my  pockets,  lit  a  cig- 
arette, and  puffed  the  smoke  luxuriously. 
Mouraki  sat  motionless  in  his  chair,  his  eyes 
cold  and  sharp  on  me,  his  brow  puckered.  At 
last  he  spoke. 

"  And  Miss  Hipgrave  ?  "  he  asked  sneeringly. 

"  Is  there  a  breach  of  promise  of  marriage  law 
in  Neopalia?"  said  I.  "In  truth,  my  dear 
Pasha,  I  am  a  little  to  blame  there ;  but  you 
mustn't  be  hard  on  me.  I  had  a  moment  of  con- 
scientious qualms.  I  confess  it.  But  she's  too 
lovely,  she  really  is.  And  she's  so  fond  of  me — 
oh,  I  couldn't  resist  it  !  "  I  was  simpering  like 
any  affected  young  lady-killer. 

Mouraki  was  a  clever  fellow,  but  the  blow  had 
been  a  sudden  one.  It  strains  the  control  even 
of  clever  fellows,  when  a  formidable  obstacle 
springs  up,  at  a  moment's  notice,  on  a  path  that 


270  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

they  have  carefully  prepared  and  levelled  for 
their  steps.  The  Pasha's  rage  mastered  him. 

"  You've  changed  your  mind  rapidly,  Lord 
Wheatley,"  said  he. 

"  I  know  nothing,"  I  rejoined,  "  that  does 
change  a  man's  mind  so  quickly  as  a  pretty  girl." 

"Yet  some  men  hold  to  their  promises,"  said 
he  with  a  savage  sneer. 

"  Oh,  a  few,  perhaps  ;  very  few  in  these  days." 

"  And  you  don't  aspire  to  be  one?  " 

"  Oh,  I  aspired,"  said  I  with  a  laugh.  "  But 
my  aspirations  have  not  stood  out  against 
Phroso's  charms." 

Then  I  took  a  step  nearer  to  him,  and,  veiling 
impertinence  under  a  thin  show  of  sympathy,  I 
said, — 

"  I  hope  you're  not  really  annoyed  ?  You 
weren't  serious  in  the  hint  you  gave  of  your  own 
intentions  ?  I  thought  you  were  only  joking, 
you  know.  If  you  were  serious,  believe  me,  I  am 
grieved.  But  it  must  be  every  man  for  himself 
in  these  little  matters,  mustn't  it?" 

He  had  borne  as  much  as  he  could.  He  rose 
suddenly  to  his  feet,  and  an  oath  escaped  from 
between  his  teeth. 

"  You  sha'n't  have  her !  "  said  he.  "  You  think 
you  can  laugh  at  me :  men  who  think  that  find 
out  their  mistake." 

I  laughed  again.     I  did  not  shrink  from  exas- 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game,  271 

perating  him  to  the  uttermost.  He  would  be  no 
more  dangerous  ;  he  might  be  less  discreet. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  I,  "  but  I  don't  perceive 
how  we  need  your  permission,  glad  as  we  should, 
of  course,  be  of  your  felicitations." 

"  I  have  some  power  in  Neopalia,"he  reminded 
me  with  a  threatening  gleam  in  his  eye. 

"  No  doubt,  but  the  power  has  to  be  carefully 
exercised  when  British  subjects  are  in  question, 
— men  (if  I  may  add  so  much)  of  some  position. 
I  can't  be  considered  an  islander  of  Neopalia  for 
all  purposes,  my  dear  Pasha." 

He  seemed  not  to  hear  or  not  to  heed  what  I 
said ;  but  he  both  heard  and  heeded,  or  I  mis- 
took my  man. 

"  I  don't  give  up  what  I  have  resolved  upon," 
said  he. 

"  You  describe  my  own  temper  to  a  nicety," 
said  I.  "  Now  I  have  resolved  to  marry  Phroso." 

"  No  !  "  said  Mouraki. 

I  greeted  the  word  with  a  scornful  shrug. 

"You  understand?  "  he  continued.  "  It  shall 
not  be." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  I. 

"  You  don't  know  the  risk  you're  running." 

"  Come,  come,  isn't  this  rather  near  boast- 
ing ?  "  I  asked  contemptuously.  "  Your  Excel- 
lency is  a  great  man,  no  doubt,  but  you  can't 
afford  to  carry  out  these  dark  designs  against  a 


272  Phrosoj  A  Romance. 

man  of  my  position."  Then  I  changed  to  a 
more  friendly  tone,  saying,  "  My  dear  Pasha,  had 
you  defeated  me,  I  should  have  taken  it  quietly. 
Won't  you  best  consult  your  dignity  by  doing 
the  same  ?  " 

A  long  silence  followed.  I  watched  his  face. 
Very  gradually  his  brow  cleared,  his  lips  relaxed 
into  a  smile.  He,  in  his  turn,  shrugged  his 
shoulders  ;  he  took  a  step  towards  me  ;  he  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  Wheatley,"  said  he,  "  it  is  true,  I  am  a  fool. 
A  man  is  a  fool  in  such  matters.  You  must 
make  allowances  for  me.  I  was  honestly  in  love 
with  her.  I  thought  myself  safe  from  you.  I 
allowed  my  temper  to  get  the  better  of  me. 
Will  you  shake  hands  ?  " 

"Ah,  now  you're  like  yourself,  my  dear  friend," 
said  I,  grasping  his  hand. 

"  We'll  speak  again  about  it  to-morrow.  But 
my  anger  is  over.  Fear  nothing.  I  will  be  rea- 
sonable." 

I  murmured  grateful  thanks  and  appreciation 
of  his  generosity. 

"  Good-night,  good-night,"  said  he.  "  I  wish 
I  hadn't  found  you  to-night.  I  should  not  have 
lost  my  composure  like  this  at  any  other  time. 
You're  sure  you  forgive  my  hasty  words  ?  " 

"  From  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  said  I  ear- 
nestly ;  and  we  pressed  one  another's  hands. 


A  Stroke  in  the  Game,  273 

Mouraki  passed  on  to  the  stairs  and  began  to 
mount  them  slowly.  He  turned  his  head  over 
his  shoulder  and  said, — 

"  How  will  you  settle  with  Miss  Hipgrave  ?  " 

"  I  must  beg  her  forgiveness,  as  I  must  yours," 
said  I. 

"  I  hope  you'll  be  equally  successful,"  said  he 
and  his  smile  was  in  working  order  by  now.  It 
was  the  last  I  saw  of  him  as  he  disappeared  up 
the  stairs. 

"Now,"  said  I,  sitting  down,  "he's  gone  to 
think  how  he  can  get  my  throat  cut  without  a 
scandal." 

In  fact,  Mouraki  and  I  were  beginning  to  un- 
derstand one  another. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Strange  Escape* 

YES,  Mouraki  was  dangerous,  very  dangerous  : 
now  that  he  had  regained  his  self-control,  most 
dangerous.  His  designs  against  me  would  be 
limited  only  by  the  bounds  which  I  had  taken 
the  opportunity  of  recalling  to  his  mind.  I  was 
a  known  man ;  I  could  not  disappear  without  ex- 
cuse. But  the  fever  of  the  island  might  be  at 
the  disposal  of  the  Governor  no  less  than  of  Con- 
stantine  Stefanopoulos.  I  must  avoid  the  in- 
fection. I  congratulated  myself  that  the  best 
antidote  I  had  yet  found — a  revolver  and  car- 
tridges— was  again  in  my  possession.  These,  and 
open  eyes,  were  the  treatment  for  the  sudden 
fatal  disease  that  threatened  inconvenient  lives 
in  Neopalia. 

I  thought  that  I  had  seen  the  Pasha  safely  and 
finally  to  bed  when  he  left  me  in  the  hall  after 
our  interview ;  I  myself  had  gone  to  bed  almost 
immediately,  and,  tired  out  with  the  various 
emotions  I  had  passed  through,  had  slept  soundly. 
But  now,  looking  back,  I  wonder  whether  the 


A  Strange  Escape*  275 

Governor  spent  much  of  the  night  on  his  back. 
I  doubt  it, — very  much  I  doubt  it.  Nay,  I  in- 
cline to  think  that  he  had  a  very  active  night,  of 
going  to  and  fro,  of  strange  meetings,  of  schemes 
and  bargainings  :  and  I  fancy  he  had  not  been 
back  in  his  room  long  before  I  rose  for  my  morn- 
ing walk.  However,  of  that  I  knew  nothing  at 
the  time,  and  I  met  him  at  breakfast,  prepared 
to  resume  our  discussion  as  he  had  promised. 
But,  behold,  he  was  surrounded  by  officers. 
There  was  a  stir  in  the  hall ;  orders  were  being 
given  ;  romance  and  the  affairs  of  love  seemed 
forgotten. 

"  My  dear  lord,"  cried  Mouraki,  turning  to- 
wards me  with  every  sign  of  discomposure  and 
vexation  on  his  face,  "  I  am  terribly  annoyed. 
These  careless  fellows  of  mine — alas,  I  am  too 
good-natured  and  they  presume  on  it  ! — have  let 
your  friend  Constantine  slip  through  their  fingers." 

"  Constantine  escaped  !  "  I  exclaimed  in  genu- 
ine surprise  and  vexation. 

"Alas,  yes!  The  sentry  fell  asleep;  it  seems 
that  the  prisoner  had  friends  and  they  got  him 
out  by  the  window.  The  news  came  to  me  at 
dawn,  and  I  have  been  having  the  island  scoured 
for  him.  But  he's  not  to  be  found,  and  we  think 
he  must  have  had  a  boat  in  readiness." 

"  Have  you  looked  in  the  cottage  where  his 
wife  is?  " 


276  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  The  very  first  thought  that  struck  me,  my 
dear  friend  !  Yes,  it  has  been  searched.  In 
vain !  It  is  now  so  closely  guarded  that  nobody 
can  get  in.  If  he  ventures  there  we  shall  have 
him  to  a  certainty.  But  go  on  with  your  break- 
fast. We  needn't  spoil  that  for  you.  I  have 
one  or  two  more  orders  to  give." 

In  obedience  to  the  Pasha  I  sat  down  and  be- 
gan my  breakfast.  But  as  I  ate,  while  Mouraki 
conferred  with  his  officers  in  a  corner  of  the  hall, 
I  became  very  thoughtful  concerning  this  escape 
of  Constantine.  Sentries  do  sleep — sometimes. 
Zealous  friends  do  open  windows — sometimes. 
Fugitives  do  find  boats  ready — sometimes.  It 
was  all  possible  ;  there  was  nothing  even  exactly 

improbable.  Yet — yet !  Whether  Mour- 

aki's  account  were  the  whole  truth,  or  something 
lay  below  and  unrevealed,  at  least  I  knew  that 
the  escape  meant  that  another  enemy,  and  a 
bitter  one,  was  loosed  against  me.  I  had  fought 
Constantine  :  I  had  touched  Mouraki's  shield  in 
challenge  the  night  before :  was  I  to  have  them 
both  against  me  ?  And  would  it  be  two  against 
one,  or,  as  boys  say,  all  against  all  ?  If  the  for- 
mer, the  chances  of  my  catching  the  fever  were 
considerably  increased.  And  somehow  I  had  a 
presentiment  that  the  former  was  nearer  the 
truth  than  the  latter.  I  had  no  real  evidence  ." 
Mouraki's  visible  chagrin  seemed  to  contradict 


A  Strange  Escape.  277 

my  theory.  But  was  not  Mouraki's  chagrin  just 
a  little  too  visible?  It  was  such  a  very  obvious, 
hearty,  genuine,  honest,  uncontrollable  chagrin  : 
it  demanded  belief  in  itself  the  least  bit  too 
loudly. 

The  Pasha  joined  me  over  my  cigarette.  If 
Constantine  were  in  the  island,  said  the  Pasha, 
with  a  blow  of  his  fist  on  the  table,  he  would  be 
laid  by  the  heels  before  evening  came  ;  not  a 
mole — let  alone  a  man — could  escape  the  soldiers' 
search ;  not  a  bird  could  enter  the  cottage  (he 
seemed  to  repeat  this  very  often)  unobserved, 
nor  escape  from  it  without  a  bullet  in  its  plumage. 
And  when  Constantine  was  caught  he  should  pay 
for  this  defiance.  For  the  Pasha  had  delayed 
the  punishment  of  his  crimes  too  long ;  this  inso- 
lent escape  was  a  proper  penalty  on  the  Pasha's 
weak  remissness;  the  Pasha  blamed  himself  very 
much  ;  his  honour  was  directly  engaged  in  the 
recapture  ;  he  would  not  sleep  till  it  was  accom- 
plished. In  a  word  the  Pasha's  zeal  beggared 
comparison  and  outran  adequate  description.  It 
filled  his  mind  ;  it  drove  out  last  night's  topic  ; 
he  waved  that  trifle  away ;  it  must  wait,  for  now 
there  was  business  afoot;  it  could  be  discussed 
only  when  Constantine  was  once  more  a  prisoner 
in  the  hands  of  justice,  a  suppliant  for  the  mercy 
of  the  Governor. 

I  escaped  at  length  from  the  torrent  of  sincer- 


278  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

ity  with  which  Mouraki  insisted  on  deluging  me, 
and  went  into  the  open  air.  There  were  no  signs 
of  Phroso  ;  Kortes  was  not  to  be  seen  either.  I 
saw  the  yacht  in  the  harbour,  and  thought  of 
strolling  down.  But  Denny  had,  no  doubt,  heard 
the  great  news,  and  I  was  reluctant  to  be  out  of 
the  way,  even  for  an  hour.  Events  came  quick 
in  Neopalia.  People  appeared  and  disappeared 

in  no  time,  escaped,  and were  not  recaptured. 

But  I  told  myself  that  I  would  send  a  message  to 
the  yacht  soon  ;  for  I  wanted  Denny  and  the 

others  to  know  what  I what  I  was  strangely 

inclined  to  suspect  regarding  this  occurrence. 

The  storm  which  had  swept  over  the  island 
the  evening  before  was  gone  ;  it  was  a  bright, 
hot  day  ;  the  waves  danced  blue  in  the  sun, 
while  a  light  breeze  blew  from  off  the  side  of  the 
land  on  which  the  house  stood,  and  was  carrying 
fishing-boats  merrily  out  of  the  harbour.  If 
Constantine  had  found  a  boat,  the  wind  was  fair 
to  carry  him  away  to  safety.  But  had  he  ?  I 
glanced  up  at  the  cottage  in  the  woods  above 
me.  A  thought  struck  me.  I  could  run  up  there 
and  down  again  in  a  few  moments. 

I  made  my  way  quickly  back  to  the  house  and 
into  the  compound  behind.  Here,  to  my  de- 
light, I  found  Kortes.  A  word  showed  me  that 
he  had  heard  the  news.  Phroso  also  had  heard 
it ;  it  was  known  to  every  one. 


A  Strange  Escape*  279 

"I'm  going  to  see  if  I  can  get  a  look  into  the 
cottage,"  said  I. 

"  I'm  told  it  is  guarded,  my  lord." 

"  Kortes,  speak  plainly.  What  do  you  say 
about  this  affair?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  don't  know  what  to  think. 
If  they  won't  let  you  in— 

"  Yes,  I  meant  that.     How  is  she,  Kortes  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  sister  says.  I  haven't  seen  her. 
Run  no  risks,  my  lord.  She  has  only  you  and 
me." 

"  And  my  friends.  I'm  going  to  send  them 
word  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  any  summons 
from  me." 

"  Then  send  it  at  once,"  he  counselled.  "  You 
may  delay,  Mouraki  will  not." 

I  was  struck  with  his  advice  ;  but  I  was  also 
bent  on  carrying  out  my  reconnaissance  of  the 
cottage. 

"  I'll  send  it  directly  I  come  back,"  said  I,  and 
I  ran  to  the  angle  of  the  wall,  climbed  up  and 
started  at  a  quick  walk  through  the  wood.  I 
met  nobody  till  I  was  almost  at  the  cottage. 
Then  I  came  suddenly  on  a  sentry.  Another  I 
saw  to  the  right,  a  third  to  the  left.  The  cottage 
seemed  ringed  round  with  watchful  figures.  The 
men  barred  my  way. 

"  But  I  am  going  to  see  the  lady — Madame 
Stefanopoulos,"  I  protested. 


280  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  have  orders  to  let  nobody  pass,"  he  ans- 
wered. "  I  will  call  the  officer." 

The  officer  came ;  he  was  full  of  infinite  re- 
grets, but  his  Excellency's  orders  were  absolute. 
Nay,  did  I  not  think  they  were  wise  ?  This  man 
was  so  desperate  a  criminal,  and  he  had  so  many 
friends.  He  would,  of  course,  try  to  communi- 
cate with  his  wife. 

"  But  he  can't  expect  his  wife  to  help  him,"  I 
exclaimed.  "  He  wanted  to  murder  her." 

"  But  women  are  forgiving.  He  might  well 
persuade  her  to  help  him  in  his  escape ;  or  he 
might  intimidate  her." 

"  So  I'm  not  to  pass  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,  my  lord.  If  his  Excellency 
gives  you  a  pass  it  will  be  another  matter." 

"The  lady  is  there  still?" 

"  Oh,  I  believe  so.  I  have  not  myself  been  in- 
side the  cottage.  That  is  not  part  of  my  duty." 

"  Is  any  one  stationed  in  the  cottage  ?  " 

The  officer  smiled  and  answered  with  an  apol- 
ogetic shrug,  "Would  not  you  ask  his  Excel- 
lency anything  you  desire  to  know,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  dare  say  you're  right,"  I  admitted, 
and  I  fixed  a  long  glance  on  the  windows  of  the 
cottage. 

"  Even  to  allow  anybody~to  linger  about  here 
is  contrary  to  my  orders,"  suggested  the  officer, 
still  civil,  still  apologetic. 


A  Strange  Escape*  281 

"  Even  to  look  ?  " 

"  His  Excellency  said  to  linger." 

"  Is  it  the  same  thing  ?  " 

"  His  Excellency  would  answer  that  also,  my 
lord." 

The  barrier  round  the  place  was  impregnable. 
That  seemed  plain.  To  loiter  near  the  cottage 
was  forbidden,  to  look  at  it  a  matter  of  suspicion. 
Yet  looking  at  the  cottage  would  not  help  the 
escape  of  Constantine. 

There  seemed  nothing  to  be  done.  Slowly 
and  reluctantly,  with  a  conviction  that  I  was 
turning  away  baffled  from  the  heart  of  the  mys- 
tery, that  the  clew  lay  there  were  I  but  allowed 
to  take  it  in  my  fingers,  I  retraced  my  steps  down 
the  hill  through  the  wood.  I  believed  that  the 
strict  guard  was  to  prevent  my  intrusion  and 
mine  alone  ;  that  the  Pasha's  search  for  Constan- 
tine was  a  pretence  ;  in  fine,  that  Constantine 
was  at  that  moment  in  the  cottage,  with  the 
knowledge  of  Mouraki  and  under  his  protection. 
But  I  could  not  prove  my  suspicions,  and  I  could 
not  unravel  the  plan  which  the  Pasha  was  pur- 
suing. I  had  a  strange,  uneasy  sense  of  fighting 
in  the  dark  ;  my  eyes  were  blindfolded,  while  my 
antagonist  could  make  full  use  of  his.  In  that 
case  the  odds  were  against  me. 

I  passed  through  the  house  ;  all  was  quiet,  no- 
body was  about.  It  was  now  the  middle  of  the 


282  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

afternoon,  and,  having  accomplished  my  useless 
inspection  of  the  cottage,  I  sat  down  and  wrote 
a  note  to  Denny,  bidding  him  be  on  the  alert, 
day  and  night ;  he  or  Hogvardt  must  always  be 
on  watch,  the  yacht  ready  to  start  at  a  moment's 
notice.  I  begged  him  to  ask  no  questions,  only 
to  be  ready :  for  life  or  death  might  hang  on  a 
moment.  Thus  I  paved  the  way  for  carrying  out 
my  resolution ;  and  my  resolution  was  no  other 
than  to  make  a  bold  dash  for  the  yacht  with 
Phroso  and  Kortes,  under  cover  of  night.  If  we 
reached  it  and  got  clear  of  the  harbour,  I  believed 
that  we  could  show  a  clean  pair  of  heels  to  the 
gunboat :  moreover  I  did  not  think  that  the  wary 
Mouraki  would  dare  to  sink  us  in  open  sea  with 
his  guns.  The  one  point  I  held  against  him  was 
his  fear  of  publicity  ;  we  should  be  safer  in  the 
yacht  than  among  the  hidden  dangers  of  Neo- 
palia.  I  finished  my  note,  sealed  it,  and  strolled 
out  in  front  of  the  house,  looking  for  somebody 
to  act  as  my  messenger. 

Standing  there,  I  raised  my  eyes  and  looked 
down  to  the  harbour  and  the  sea.  At  what  I 
saw,  forgetting  Kortes's  reproof,  I  again  uttered 
an  oath  of  surprise  and  dismay.  Smoke  poured 
from  the  funnel  of  the  yacht.  See,  she  moved  ! 
She  made  for  the  mouth  of  the  harbour.  She 
set  her  course  for  the  sea.  Where  was  she  going? 
I  did  not  care  to  answer  that.  She  must  not  go  ! 


A  Strange  Escape*  283 

It  was  vital  that  she  should  stay  ready  for  me  by 
the  jetty.  My  scruples  about  leaving  the  house 
vanished  before  this  more  pressing  necessity. 
Without  an  instant's  delay,  with  hardly  an  in- 
stant's thought,  I  put  my  best  foot  foremost  and 
ran  as  a  man  runs  for  his  life  along  the  road  to- 
wards the  town.  As  I  started  I  thought  I  heard 
Mouraki's  voice  from  the  window  above  my  head 
beginning  in  its  polite  wondering  tones,  "  Why 

in  the  world,  my  dear  Wheatley ?  "     Ah,  did 

he  not  know  why?  I  would  not  stop  for  him. 
On  I  went.  I  reached  the  main  road ;  I  darted 
down  the  steep  street ;  women  started  in  surprise 
at  me,  children  scurried  hastily  out  of  my  way. 
I  was  a  very  John  Gilpin  without  a  horse.  I  did 
not  think  myself  able  to  run  so  far  or  so  fast :  but 
apprehension  gave  me  legs ;  excitement,  breath  : 
and  love — yes,  love — why  deny  it  now  ? — love, 
speed  ;  I  neither  halted  nor  turned  nor  failed 
till  I  reached  the  jetty.  But  there  I  sank  ex- 
hausted against  the  wooden  fencing ;  for  the 
yacht  was  hard  on  a  mile  out  to  sea,  and  putting 
yards  and  yards  between  herself  and  me  at  every 
moment.  Again  I  sprang  up  and  waved  my 
handkerchief ;  two  or  three  of  Mouraki's  soldiers 
who  were  lounging  about  stared  at  me  stolidly: 
a  fisherman  laughed  mockingly:  the  children 
had  flocked  after  me  down  the  street  and  made  a 
gaping  circle  round  me.  The  note  to  Denny  was 


284  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

in  my  hand:  Denny  was  far  out  of  my  reach. 
What  possessed  the  boy  ?  Hard  were  the  names 
that  I  called  myself  for  having  neglected  Kor- 
tes's  advice.  What  were  the  cottage  and  the 
whereabouts  of  Constantine  compared  with  the 
presence  of  my  friends  and  the  yacht  ? 

A  hope  ran  through  me.  Perhaps  they  were 
only  passing  an  hour,  and  would  turn  homewards 
soon.  I  strained  my  eager  eyes  after  them.  The 
yacht  held  on  her  course,  straight,  swift,  relent- 
less. She  seemed  to  be  carrying  with  her  Phroso's 
hopes  of  rescue,  mine  of  safety :  her  buoyant 
leap  embodied  Mouraki's  triumph.  I  turned 
from  watching,  sick  at  heart,  half-beaten,  and 
discouraged  :  and,  as  I  turned,  a  boy  ran  up  to 
me  and  thrust  a  letter  into  my  hand,  saying, — 

"The  gentleman  on  the  yacht  left  this  for  my 
lord.  I  was  about  to  carry  it  up  when  I  saw  my 
lord  run  through  the  street,  and  I  followed  him 
back." 

The  letter  bore  Denny's  handwriting.  I  tore 
it  open  with  eager  fingers. 

"  Dear  Charley,"  it  ran,  "  I  don't  know  what 
your  game  is,  but  it's  pretty  slow  for  us.  So 
we're  off  fishing.  Old  Mouraki  has  been  uncom- 
mon civil,  and  sent  a  fellow  with  us  to  show  us 
the  best  place.  If  the  weather  is  decent  we  shall 
stay  out  a  couple  of  nights,  so  you  may  look  for 
us  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  knew  it  was  no 


A  Strange  Escape.  285 

good  asking  you  to  come.  Be  a  good  boy,  and 
don't  get  into  mischief  while  I'm  away.  Of 
course  Mouraki  will  bottle  Constantine  again  in 
no  time;  he  told  us  he  had  no  doubt  of  it,  unless 
the  fellow  had  found  a  boat.  I'll  run  up  to  the 
house  as  soon  as  we  get  back.  Yours  ever,  D. 
P.  S. — As  you  said  you  didn't  want  Watkins  up 
at  the  house,  I've  taken  him  along  to  cook." 

Beati  innocentes  !  Denny  was  very  innocent, 
and  so,  I  suppose,  very  blessed,  and  my  friend 
the  Pasha  had  got  rid  of  him  in  the  easiest  man- 
ner possible.  Indeed  it  was  "uncommon  civil" 
of  Mouraki !  They  would  be  back  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  and  Denny  would  "  run  up  to  the 
house."  The  thing  was  almost  ludicrous  in  the 
pitiful  unconsciousness  of  it.  I  tore  the  note 
that  I  had  written  into  small  pieces,  put  Denny's 
in  my  pocket,  and  started  to  mount  the  hill  again. 
But  I  turned  once  and  looked  on  the  face  of  the 
sea.  To  my  anxious  mind  it  seemed  not  to 
smile  at  me  as  was  its  wont.  It  was  not  now  my 
refuge  and  my  safety,  but  the  prison-bars  that 
confined  me — me  and  her  whom  I  had  to  serve 
and  save. 

And  he  had  taken  Watkins  along  to  cook  ;  for 
I  did  not  want  him  at  the  house !  I  would  have 
given  every  farthing  I  had  in  the  world  for  any 
honest,  brave  man,  Watkins  or  another.  And  I 
was  not  to  "  get  into  mischief."  I  knew  very 


286  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

well  what  Denny  meant  by  that.  Well,  he 
might  be  reassured.  It  did  not  appear  likely 
that  I  should  enjoy  much  leisure  for  dalliance  of 
the  sort  he  blamed. 

"  Really,  you  know,  I  shall  have  something 
else  to  do,"  I  said  to  myself. 

Slowly  I  walked  up  the  hill,  too  deep  in  reflec- 
tion even  to  hasten  my  steps  ;  and  I  started  like 
a  man  roused  from  sleep  when  I  heard,  from  the 
side  of  the  street,  a  soft  cry  of  "  My  lord !  "  I 
looked  round  ;  I  was  directly  opposite  the  door 
of  Vlacho's  inn  ;  on  the  threshold  stood  the  girl 
Panayiota,  who  was  Demetri's  sweetheart  and 
had  held  in  her  lap  the  head  of  Constantine's 
wife,  whom  Demetri  could  not  kill.  She  cast 
cautious  glances  up  and  down  the  street,  and 
withdrew  swiftly  into  the  shadow  of  the  house, 
beckoning  to  me  to  follow  her.  In  a  strait  like 
mine  no  chance,  however  small,  is  to  be  missed 
or  refused.  I  followed  her.  Her  cheek  glowed 
with  colour ;  she  was  under  the  influence  of 
some  excitement  whose  cause  I  could  not 
fathom. 

"  I  have  a  message  for  you,  my  lord,"  she 
whispered,  "  I  must  tell  it  you  quickly ;  we  must 
not  be  seen."  She  shrank  back  farther  into  the 
shelter  of  the  doorway. 

"  As  quickly  as  you  like,  Panayiota,"  said  I. 
"  I  have  little  time  to  lose." 


A  Strange  Escape,  287 

"  You  have  a  friend  more  than  you  know  of," 
said  she,  setting  her  lips  close  to  my  ear. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  I.     "  Is  that  all  ?" 

"  Yes,  that's  all — a  friend  more  than  you  know 
of,  my  lord.  Take  courage,  my  lord." 

I  bent  my  eyes  on  her  facejn  question  ;  she  un- 
derstood that  I  was  asking  for  a  plainer  message. 

"  I  can  tell  you  no  more,"  she  said.  "  I  was 
told  to  say  that — a  friend  more  than  you  know 
of.  I  have  said  it.  Don't  linger,  my  lord.  I 
can  say  no  more,  and  there  is  danger." 

"  I'm  much  obliged  to  you.  I  hope  he  will 
prove  of  value." 

"  He  will,"  she  replied  quickly,  and  she  waved 
aside  the  piece  of  money  which  I  had  offered 
her,  and  motioned  me  to  be  gone.  But  again 
she  detained  me  for  a  moment. 

"  The  lady — the  wife  of  the  Lord  Constantine 
— what  of  her?"  she  asked  in  low,  hurried  tones. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  her,"  said  I.  "  I  believe 
she's  at  the  cottage." 

"And  he's  loose  again?" 

"  Yes."  And  I  added,  searching  her  face, 
"  But  the  Governor  will  hunt  him  down." 

I  had  my  answer,  a  plain,  explicit  answer ;  it 
came  not  in  words,  but  in  a  scornful  smile,  a  lift 
of  the  brows,  a  shrug.  I  nodded  in  understand- 
ing. Panayiota  whispered  again,  "  Courage — a 
friend  more  than  you  know  of — courage,  my 


288  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

lord,"  and,  turning,  fairly  ran  away  from  me  down 
the  passage  towards  the  yard  behind  the  inn. 

Who  was  this  friend  ?  By  what  means  did  he 
seek  to  help  me?  I  could  not  tell.  One  sus- 
picion I  had,  and  I  fought  a  little  fight  with  my- 
self as  I  walked  back  to  the  house.  I  recollected 
the  armed  man  I  had  met  in  the  night,  whom  I 
had  rebuked  and  threatened.  Was  he  the  friend, 
and  was  it  my  duty  to  tell  Mouraki  of  my  sus- 
picions? I  say,  I  had  a  struggle.  Did  I  win  or 
lose?  I  do  not  know,  for  even  now  I  cannot 
make  up  my  mind.  But  I  was  exasperated  at 
the  trick  Mouraki  had  played  on  me ;  I  was  fear- 
ful for  Phroso,  I  felt  that  I  was  contending 
against  a  man  who  would  laugh  at  the  chivalry 
which  warned  him.  I  hardened  my  heart  and 
shut  my  eyes.  I  owed  nothing — less  than  noth- 
ing— to  Mouraki  Pasha.  He  had,  as  I  verily  be- 
lieved, loosed  a  desperate,  treacherous  foe  on 
me.  He  had,  as  I  knew  now,  deluded  my  friends 
into  forsaking  me.  Let  him  guard  his  own  head 
and  his  own  skin.  I  had  enough  to  do  with 
Phroso  and  myself.  So  I  reasoned,  seeking  to 
justify  my  silence.  I  have  often  since  thought 
that  the  question  raised  a  nice  enough  point  of 
casuistry.  Men  who  have  nothing  else  to  do 
may  amuse  themselves  with  the  answering  of  it. 
I  answered  it  by  the  time  I  reached  the  thresh- 
old of  the  house.  And  I  held  my  tongue. 


A  Strange  Escape*  289 

Mouraki  was  waiting  for  me  in  the  doorway  ; 
he  was  smiling  as  he  had  smiled  before  my  bold 
declaration  of  love  for  Phroso  had  spoiled  his 
temper. 

"My  dear  lord,"  he  cried,  "  I  could  have  spared 
you  a  tiresome  walk.  I  thought  your  friends 
would  certainly  have  told  you  of  their  intention, 
or  I  would  have  mentioned  it  myself." 

"  My  dear  Pasha,"  I  rejoined,  no  less  cordially, 
"  to  tell  the  truth,  I  knew  their  intention,  but  it 
struck  me  suddenly  that  I  would  go  with  them, 
and  I  ran  down  to  try  and  catch  them.  Un- 
fortunately I  was  too  late." 

The  extravagance  of  my  lying  served  its  turn  ; 
Mouraki  understood,  not  that  I  was  trying  to 
deceive  him,  but  that  I  was  informing  him  po- 
litely that  he  had  not  succeeded  in  deceiving  me. 

"You  wished  to  accompany  them?"  he  asked 
with  a  broadening  smile.  "  You — a  lover!  " 

"  A  man  can't  always  be  making  love,"  said  I 
carelessly — though  truly  enough. 

Mouraki  took  a  step  towards  me. 

"  It  is  safer  not  to  do  it  at  all,"  said  he  in  a 
lower  tone. 

The  man  had  a  great  gift  of  expression :  his 
eyes  could  put  a  world  of  meaning  into  a  few 
simple  words.  In  this  little  sentence,  which 
sounded  like  a  trite  remark,  I  discovered  a  last 
offer,  an  invitation  to  surrender,  a  threat  in 


290  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

case  of  obstinacy.  I  answered  it  after  its  own 
kind. 

"  Safer  perhaps,  but  deplorably  dull,"  said  I. 

"Ah,  well,  you  know  best,"  remarked  the 
Pasha.  "  If  you  like  to  take  the  rough  with  the 
smooth —  He  broke  off  with  a  shrug,  resum- 

ing a  moment  later :  "  You  expect  to  see  them 
back  the  day  after  to-morrow,  don't  you?" 

I  was  not  sure  whether  the  particular  form  of 
this  question  was  intentional  or  not.  In  the 
literal  meaning  of  his  words  Mouraki  asked  me, 
not  whether  they  would  be  back,  but  whether  I 
thought  I  should  witness  their  return — possibly 
a  different  thing. 

"  Denny  says  they'll  be  back  then,"  I  answered 
cautiously.  The  Pasha  stroked  his  beard  ;  this 
time  he  was,  I  think,  hiding  a  smile  at  my  under- 
standing and  evasion  of  his  question. 

"  I  hear,"  he  observed,  with  a  laugh,  "  that  you 
have  been  trying  to  pass  my  sentries  and  look  for 
our  runaway  on  your  own  account.  You  really 
shouldn't  expose  yourself  to  such  risks;  the  man 
might  kill  you.  I'm  glad  my  officer  obeyed  his 
orders." 

"  Then  Constantine  is  at  the  cottage  ?  "  I  cried 
quickly,  for  I  thought  he  had  betrayed  himself 
into  an  admission.  His  composed  air  and  amused 
smile  smothered  my  hopes. 

"At  the  cottage?     Oh,  dear,  no.     Of  course  I 


A  Strange  Escape,  291 

have  searched  that.  I  had  that  searched  first  of 
all." 

"  And  the  guard ?  " 

"  Is  only  to  prevent  him  from  going  there." 

I  had  not  that  perfect  facial  control  which  dis- 
tinguished the  Governor.  I  suppose  I  appeared 
unconvinced,  for  Mouraki  caught  me  by  the  arm, 
and,  giving  me  an  affectionate  squeeze,  cried, 
"  What  an  unbeliever !  Come,  you  shall  go  with 
me  and  see  for  yourself." 

If  he  took  me,  of  course  I  should  find  nothing. 
The  bird,  if  it  had  ever  alighted  on  that  stone, 
would  be  flown  by  now.  His  specious  offer  was 
worthless. 

"  My  dear  Pasha,  of  course  I  take  your  word 
for  it." 

"  No,  I  won't  be  trusted  !  I  positively  won't 
be  believed  !  You  shall  come.  We  two  will  go 
together."  And  he  still  clung  to  my  arm  with 
the  pressure  of  friendly  compulsion. 

I  did  not  see  how  to  avoid  doing  what  he  sug- 
gested without  coming  to  an  open  quarrel  with 
him,  and  that  I  did  not  desire.  He  had  every 
motive  for  wishing  to  force  me  into  open  enmity : 
a  hasty  word  or  gesture  might  serve  him  as  a 
plausible  excuse  for  putting  me  under  arrest. 
He  would  have  a  case  if  he  could  prove  me  to 
have  been  disrespectful  to  the  Governor.  My 
only  chance  lay  in  seeming  submission  up  to  the 


292  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

last  possible  moment.  And  Kortes  was  guard- 
ing Phroso,  so  that  I  could  go  without  uneasiness. 

"Well,  let's  walk  up  the  hill  then,"  said  I 
carelessly.  "  Though  I  assure  you,  you're  giving 
yourself  needless  trouble." 

He  would  not  listen,  and  we  turned,  still  arm 
in  arm,  to  pass  through  the  house.  Mouraki 
had  caused  a  ladder  to  be  placed  against  the 
bank  of  rock,  for  he  did  not  enjoy  clambering  up 
by  the  steps  cut  in  the  side  of  it.  He  set  his 
foot  now  on  the  lowest  rung  of  this  ladder ;  but 
he  paused  there  an  instant  and  turned  round, 
facing  me,  and  asked,  as  though  the  thought 
had  suddenly  occurred  to  his  mind, — 

"  Have  you  had  any  conversation  with  our 
fair  friend  this  afternoon?  " 

"  The  Lady  Phroso  ?  No.  She  has  not  made 
an  appearance.  Perhaps  I  wrong  you,  Pasha, 
but  I  fancied  you  were  not  over-anxious  that  I 
should  have  a  conversation  with  her." 

"You  wrong  me,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  Indeed 
you  wrong  me.  To  prove  it,  you  shall  have  a 
tete-h-tete  with  her  the  moment  we  return.  Oh, 
I  don't  fight  with  weapons  like  that !  I  wouldn't 
use  my  authority  like  that.  I  am  going  to  search 
again  for  this  Constantine  myself  this  evening 
with  a  strong  party,  then  you  shall  be  at  perfect 
liberty  to  talk  with  her." 

"  I'm  infinitely  obliged  ;  you're  too  generous." 


A  Strange  Escape.  293 

"  I  trust  we're  gentlemen  still,  though  unhap- 
pily we  have  become  rivals,"  and  he  let  go  of 
the  ladder  for  an  instant  in  order  to  press  my 
hand. 

Then  he  began  to  climb  up,  and  I  followed 
him,  asking  of  my  puzzled  brain,  "  Now,  what 
does  he  mean  by  that  ?  " 

For  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  man  needed  cat's 
eyes  to  follow  the  schemes  of  Mouraki  Pasha, 
eyes  that  darkness  could  not  blind.  This  last 
generous  offer  of  his  was  beyond  the  piercing  of 
my  vision.  I  did  not  know  whether  it  were 
merely  a  bit  of  courtesy,  safe  to  offer,  or  if  it  hid 
some  new  design.  Well,  it  was  little  use  won- 
dering. At  least  I  should  see  Phroso.  Perhaps 
— a  sudden  thought  seized  me,  and  I 

"  What  makes  you  look  so  excited  ?  "  asked 
the  Pasha ;  his  eyes  were  on  my  face,  his  lips 
curved  in  a  smile. 

il  I'm  not  excited,"  said  I.  But  the  blood  was 
leaping  in  my  veins.  I  had  an  idea. 


CHAPTER  XVL 
An  Unfinished  Letter. 

I  HAVE  learned  on  my  way  through  the  world 
how  dangerous  a  thing  is  a  conceit  of  a  man's 
own  cleverness ;  and  among  the  most  striking 
lessons  of  this  truth  stands  one  which  Mouraki 
Pasha  taught  me  in  Neopalia.  My  game  was 
against  a  past-master  in  the  art  of  intrigue  ;  yet 
I  made  sure  I  had  caught  him  napping,  sure  that 
my  wits  were  quicker  than  his  and  that  he  missed 
what  was  plain  to  my  mind.  In  vain,  they  say, 
is  the  net  spread  in  the  sight  of  any  bird.  Aye, 
of  any  bird  that  has  eyes  and  knows  how  to  use 
them.  But  if  the  bird  has  no  eyes,  or  employs 
them  in  admiring  its  own  plumage,  there  is  a 
chance  for  the  fowler  after  all. 

These  reflections  occur  to  my  mind  when  I 
recollect  the  hope  and  exultation  in  my  heart  as 
I  followed  the  Governor's  leisurely  upward 
march  through  the  wood  to  the  cottage.  Mour- 
aki, I  said  to  myself,  thought  that  he  was  allay- 
ing my  suspicions  and  lulling  my  watchfulness  to 
sleep  by  the  courtesy  with  which  he  arranged  an 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  295 

interview  between  Phroso  and  myself.  Was 
that  what  he  was  really  doing?  No,  I  declared 
triumphantly  ;  he  was  putting  in  my  way  the 
one  sovereign  chance  which  fate  hitherto  had 
denied.  He  was  to  be  away,  and  most  of  his 
men  with  him :  Phroso,  Kortes,  and  I  would  be 
alone  together  at  the  house,  alone  for  an  hour, 
perhaps  for  two.  At  the  moment  I  felt  that  I 
asked  no  more  of  fortune.  Had  the  Pasha  never 
heard  of  the  secret  of  the  Stefanopouloi  ?  It  al- 
most seemed  so :  but  I  myself  had  told  him  of  it, 
and  Denny's  information  had  preceded  mine. 
Yet  he  was  leaving  us  alone  by  the  hidden  door. 
Had  he  remembered  it?  Had  he  stopped  it? 
My  ardour  was  cooled  :  my  face  fell.  He  knew  ; 
he  could  not  have  forgotten  ;  and  if  he  knew  and 
remembered,  of  a  surety  the  passage  would  be 
blocked  or  watched ! 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Mouraki,  turning  to  me, 
"  I  want  you  to  show  me  that  passage  you  told 
me  of  some  time  to-morrow.  I've  never  found 
time  to  go  down  there  yet,  and  I  have  a  taste 
for  these  mediaeval  curiosities." 

"  I  shall  be  proud  to  be  your  guide,  Pasha. 
You  would  trust  yourself  there  with  me?" 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Wheatley,  such  things  are  not 
done  now,"  smiled  the  Pasha.  "You  and  I  will 
settle  our  little  difference  another  way.  Have 
you  been  down  since  I  came?" 


296  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  No.  I've  had  about  enough  of  the  passage," 
said  I  carelessly.  "  I  should  be  glad  never  to 
see  it  again ;  but  I  must  strain  a  point  and  go 
with  you." 

"Yes,  you  must  do  that,"  he  answered. 
"  How  steep  this  hill  is !  Really  I  must  be 
growing  old,  as  Phroso  is  cruel  enough  to  think  !  " 

This  conversation,  seeming  to  fall  in  so  pat 
with  my  musings,  and  indicating,  if  it  did  not 
state,  that  Mouraki  treated  the  passage  as  a  trifle 
of  no  moment,  brought  us  to  the  outskirts  of  the 
wood ;  the  cottage  was  close  in  front  of  us.  We 
had  passed  only  one  sentry ;  the  cordon  was 
gone.  This  change  struck  me  at  once,  and  I  re- 
marked on  it  to  Mouraki. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  it  safe  to  send  most  of  them 
away ;  there  are  one  or  two  more  than  you  see, 
though.  But  he  won't  venture  back  now." 

I  smiled  to  myself.  I  was  pleased  again  at  my 
penetration :  and  in  this  instance,  unlike  the 
other  at  which  I  have  hinted,  I  do  not  think  I 
was  wrong.  The  cordon  had  been  here,  then 
Constantine  had ;  the  cordon  was  gone,  and 
I  made  no  doubt  that  Constantine  was  gone 
also. 

The  front  of  the  cottage  was  dark,  and  the 
curtains  of  the  windows  drawn,  as  they  had  been 
when  I  came  before,  on  the  night  I  killed  Vlacho 
the  innkeeper  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  Kortes 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  297 

and  Demetri.  The  whirligig  had  turned  since 
then  ;  for  then  this  man  Mouraki  had  been  my 
far-off  much-desired  deliverer,  Kortes  and  Deme- 
tri open  enemies.  Now  Mouraki  was  my  peril ; 
Kortes  my  best  friend  ;  Demetri — well,  what  and 
whom  had  Panayiota  meant  ? 

"  Shall  we  go  in  ?  "  asked  Mouraki,  as  we  came 
to  the  house.  "  Stay,  though,  I'll  knock  on  the 
door  with  my  stick.  Madame  Stefanopoulos  is, 
no  doubt,  within.  I  think  she  will  probably  not 
have  joined  her  husband." 

"  I  imagine  she'll  have  heard  of  his  escape 
with  great  regret,"  said  I. 

The  Pasha  knocked  with  the  gold-headed  cane 
which  he  carried.  He  waited  and  then  repeated 
the  blow.  No  answer  came. 

"  Well,"  said  he  with  a  shrug,  "  we  have  given 
her  fair  warning.  Let  us  enter.  She  knows  you, 
my  dear  Wheatley,  and  will  not  be  alarmed." 

"  But  if  Constantine'shere?  "  I  suggested  with 
a  mocking  smile.  "  Your  life  is  a  valuable  one  ; 
run  no  risks ;  he's  a  desperate  man." 

The  Pasha  shifted  his  cane  to  his  left  hand, 
smiled  in  answer  to  my  smile,  and  produced  a 
revolver. 

"You're  wise,"  said  I,  and  I  took  my  revolver 
out  of  my  pocket. 

"  We  are  ready  for — anything — now,"  said 
Mouraki. 


298  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  think  "  anything "  in  that  sentence  was 
meant  to  include  "  one  another." 

The  Pasha  opened  the  door  and  passed  in. 
Nothing  seemed  changed  since  my  last  visit. 
The  door  of  the  room  on  the  right  was  open ; 
the  table  was  again  spread, — for  two  this  time ; 
the  left-hand  door  was  shut. 

"  You  see  the  fugitive  is  not  in  that  room," 
observed  the  Pasha,  waving  his  hand  to  the  right. 
"  Let  us  try  the  other,"  and  he  turned  the  door- 
handle of  the  room  on  the  left  and  preceded  me 
into  it. 

At  this  point  I  am  impelled  to  a  little  con- 
fession. The  murderous  impulse  is,  perhaps,  not 
so  uncommon  as  we  assume  ;  I  dare  say  many 
respectable  men  and  amiable  women  have  felt  it 
in  all  its  attractive  simplicity  once  or  twice  in 
their  lives ;  it  seems  at  such  moments  hardly  sin- 
ful, merely  too  dangerous,  and  to  be  recognised 
as  impossible  to  gratify  only  by  reason  of  its 
danger.  But  I  perceive  that  I  am  accusing  the 
rest  of  the  world  in  the  hope  of  excusing  myself ; 
for  at  that  moment,  when  the  Pasha's  broad,  solid 
back  was  presented  to  me,  a  yard  in  front,  I  ex- 
perienced a  momentary  but  extremely  strong 
temptation  to  raise  my  arm,  move  my  finger,  and 
— transform  the  situation.  I  did  not  do  it :  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  I  have  never  counted  the  de- 
sire to  do  it  among  the  great  sins  of  my  life. 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  299 

Mouraki,  I  thought  then  and  know  now,  deserved 
nothing  better.  Unhappily  we  have  our  own 
consciences  to  consider,  and  thus  are  often  pre- 
vented from  meting  out  to  others  the  measure 
their  deeds  claim. 

"  I  see  nobody,"  said  the  Pasha.  "  But  then 
the  room  is  dark.  Shall  I  pull  back  the  cur- 
tain  ?  " 

"You'd  better  be  careful,"  said  I,  laughing. 
"  That's  what  Vlacho  did." 

"Ah,  but  you're  on  the  same  side  this  time," 
he  answered,  and  stepped  across  the  room  to- 
wards the  curtain. 

Suddenly  I  became,  or  seemed  to  become, 
vaguely,  uncomfortably,  even  terribly  conscious 
of  something  there.  Yet  I  could  see  nothing  in 
the  dark  room,  and  I  heard  nothing.  I  can 
hardly  think  Mouraki  shared  my  strange  oppres- 
sive feeling;  yet  the  curtain  was  not  immediately 
drawn  back,  his  figure  bulked  motionless  just  in 
front  of  me,  and  he  repeated,  in  tones  that  be- 
trayed uneasiness, — 

"  I  suppose  I'd  better  draw  back  the  curtain, 
hadn't  I  ?  " 

What  was  it?  It  must  have  been  all  fancy, 
born  of  the  strain  of  excitement  and  the  nervous 
tension  in  which  I  was  living,.  I  have  had  some- 
thing of  the  feeling  in  the  dark  before  and  since, 
but  never  so  strong,  distinct,  and  almost  over- 


300  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

powering.  I  knew  Constantine  was  not  there  ;  I 
had  no  fear  of  him  if  he  were.  Yet  my  forehead 
grew  damp  with  sweat. 

Mouraki's  hand  was  on  the  curtain ;  he  drew  it 
back;  the  dull  evening  light  spread  sluggishly 
through  the  room.  Mouraki  turned  and  looked 
at  me  ;  I  returned  his  gaze.  A  moment  passed 
before  either  of  us  looked  round. 

"  There's  nobody  behind  the  curtain,"  said  he 
with  a  slight  sigh  which  seemed  to  express  relief. 
"  Do  you  see  any  one  anywhere  ?  " 

Then  I  pulled  myself  together,  and  looked 
round.  The  chairs  near  me  were  empty,  the 
couch  had  no  occupant.  But  away  in  the  corner 
of  the  room,  in  the  shadow  of  a  projecting  angle 
of  wall,  I  saw  a  figure  seated  in  front  of  a  table. 
On  the  table  were  writing-materials ;  the  figure 
was  a  woman's,  her  arms  were  spread  on  the 
table,  and  her  head  lay  between  them.  I  raised 
my  hand  and  pointed  to  her.  Mouraki's  eyes 
obeyed  my  direction,  but  came  quickly  back  to 
me  in  question,  and  he  arched  his  brows. 

I  stepped  across  the  room  towards  where  the 
woman  sat.  I  heard  the  Pasha  following  with 
hesitating  tread,  and  I  waited  till  he  overtook 
me.  Then  I  called  her  name  softly  ;  yet  I  knew 
that  it  was  no  use  to  call  her  name ;  it  was  only 
the  protest  my  horror  made.  She  would  hear 
her  name  no  more.  Again  I  pointed  with  my 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  301 

right  hand,  catching  Mouraki's  arm  with  my  left 
at  the  same  moment. 

"  There,"  I  said,  "  there — between  the  shoul- 
ders !  A  knife  !  " 

I  felt  his  arm  tremble.  I  must  do  him  justice. 
I  am  convinced  that  he  did  not  foresee  or  antici- 
pate this  among  the  results  of  the  letting  loose 
of  Constantine  Stefanopoulos.  I  heard  him  clear 
his  throat,  I  saw  him  lick  his  lips ;  his  lids  set- 
tled low  over  his  cunning  eyes.  I  turned  from 
him  to  the  motionless  figure  in  the  chair. 

She  was  dead,  had  been  dead  some  little  while, 
and  must  have  died  instantly  on  that  foul  stroke. 
Why  had  the  brute  dealt  it?  Was  it  mere 
revenge  and  cruelty,  persistently  nursed  wrath 
at  her  betrayal  of  him  on  St.  Tryphon's  day  ? 
Or  had  some  new  cause  evoked  passion  from 
him? 

"  Let  us  lay  her  here  on  the  sofa,"  I  said  to 
Mouraki  ;  "and  you  must  send  some  one  to  look 
after  her." 

He  seemed  reluctant  to  help  me ;  I  leaned  for- 
ward alone,  and,  putting  my  arm  round  her, 
raised  her  from  the  table  and  set  her  upright  in 
the  chair.  I  rejoiced  to  find  no  trace  of  pain  or 
horror  on  her  face.  As  I  looked  at  her  I  gave  a 
sudden,  short  sob.  I  was  unstrung,  the  thing 
was  so  wantonly  cruel  and  horrible. 

"  He  has  made  good  use  of  his  liberty,"  I  said 


302  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

in  a  low  fierce  tone,  turning  on  Mouraki  in  a  sud- 
den burst  of  anger  against  the  hand  that  had  set 
the  villain  free.  But  the  Pasha's  composure 
wrapped  him  like  a  cloak  again.  He  knew  what 
I  meant,  and  read  the  implied  taunt  in  my  words, 
but  he  answered  calmly, — 

"  We  have  no  proof  yet  that  it  was  her  hus- 
band who  killed  her." 

"  Who  else  should  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  remarking,  "  No 
proof,  I  said  ;  perhaps  he  did,  perhaps  not ;  we 
don't  know." 

"  Help  me  with  her,"  said  I  brusquely. 

Between  us  we  lifted  her  and  laid  her  on  the 
couch,  and  spread  over  her  a  fur  rug  that  draped 
one  of  the  chairs.  While  this  was  done  we  did 
not  exchange  a  word  with  one  another.  Mouraki 
uttered  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  task  was  finished. 

"  I'll  send  a  couple  of  women  up  as  soon  as  we 
get  back.  Meanwhile  the  place  is  guarded  and 
nobody  can  come  in.  Need  we  delay  longer  ? 
It  is  not  a  pleasant  place." 

"  I  should  think  we  might  as  well  go,"  I  an- 
swered, casting  my  eye  again  round  the  little 
room,  to  the  spot  where  Vlacho  had  fallen,  en- 
veloped in  the  curtain  which  he  dragged  down 
with  him,  and  to  the  writing-table  that  had  sup- 
ported the  dead  body  of  Francesca.  Mouraki's 
hand  was  on  the  door-handle  :  he  stood  there 


An  Unfinished  Letter*  303 

impatient  to  be  out  of  the  place,  waiting  for  me 
to  accompany  him.  But  my  last  glance  had  seen 
something  new,  and  with  a  sudden,  low  exclama- 
tion I  darted  across  the  room  to  the  table.  I 
had  perceived  a  sheet  of  paper  lying  just  where 
Francesca's  head  had  rested. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Mouraki. 

I  made  him  no  answer.  I  seized  the  piece  of 
paper.  A  pen  lay  between  it  and  the  inkstand. 
On  the  paper  was  a  line  or  two  of  writing ;  the 
characters  were  blurred,  as  though  the  dead 
woman's  hair  had  smeared  them  before  the  ink 
was  dry.  I  held  it  up.  Mouraki  stepped  briskly 
across  to  me. 

"Give  it  tome,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"  It  may  be  something  I  ought  to  see." 

The  first  hint  of  action,  of  new  light  or  a  new 
development,  restored  their  cool  alertness  to  my 
faculties. 

"Why  not  something  which  I  ought  to  see,  my 
dear  Pasha  ?  "  I  asked,  holding  the  paper  behind 
my  back  and  facing  him. 

"  You  forget  the  position  I  hold,  Lord  Wheat- 
ley.  You  have  no  such  position." 

I  did  not  argue  that.  I  walked  to  the  window, 
to  get  the  best  of  the  light.  Mouraki  followed 
me  closely. 

"I'll  read  it  to  you,"  said  I.  "There  isn't 
much  of  it." 


304  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  held  it  to  the  light.  The  Pasha  was  close  by 
my  shoulder,  his  pale  face  leaning  forward  to- 
wards the  paper.  Straining  my  eyes  on  to  the 
blurred  characters  I  read ;  and  I  read  aloud, 
according  to  my  promise,  hearing  Mouraki's 
breathing  which  accompanied  my  words. 

"  '  My  lord,  take  care.  He  is  free.  Mouraki 
has  set- 
That  was  all :  a  blot  followed  the  last  word. 
At  that  word  the  pen  must  have  fallen  from  her 
fingers  as  her  husband's  dagger  stole  her  life. 
We  had  read  her  last  words.  The  writing  of 
that  line  saw  the  moment  of  her  death ;  did  it 
also  supply  the  cause  ?  If  so,  not  the  old 
grudge,  but  rage  at  a  fresh  betrayal  of  a  fresh 
villainy  had  impelled  Constantine's  arm  to  his 
foul  stroke.  He  had  caught  her  in  the  act  of 
writing  it,  taken  his  revenge,  and  secured  his 
safety. 

After  I  had  read,  there  was  silence.  The 
Pasha's  face  was  still  by  my  shoulder.  I  gazed, 
as  if  fascinated,  on  the  fatal  unfinished  note.  At 
last  I  turned  and  looked  him  in  the  face.  His 
eyes  met  mine  in  unmoved,  steely  composure. 

"  I  think,"  said  I,  "  that  I  had  a  right  to  read 
the  note  after  all.  For,  as  I  guess,  the  writer 
was  addressing  it  to  me  and  not  to  you." 

For  a  moment  Mouraki  hesitated ;  then  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  saying, — 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  305 

"  My  dear  lord,  I  don't  know  to  whom  it  is 
addressed  or  what  it  means.  Had  the  unfortu- 
nate lady  been  allowed  to  finish  it " 

"  We  should  know  more  than  we  do  now,"  I 
interrupted. 

"  I  was  about  to  say  as  much.  I  see  she  intro- 
duced my  name  ;  she  can,  however,  have  known 
nothing  of  any  course  I  might  be  pursuing." 

"  Unless  some  one  who  knew  told  her." 

"Who  could?" 

"Well,  her  husband." 

"  Who  was  killing  her  ? "  he  asked  with  a 
scornful  smile. 

"  He  may  have  told  her  before,  and  she  may 
have  been  trying  to  forward  the  information  to 
me." 

"  It  is  all  the  purest  conjecture,"  shrugged  the 
Governor. 

I  looked  him  in  the  eyes,  and  I  think  my  eyes 
told  him  pretty  plainly  my  views  of  the  meaning 
of  the  note.  He  answered  my  glance  at  first 
with  a  carefully  inexpressive  gaze ;  but  presently 
a  meaning  came  into  his  eyes ;  he  seemed  to  con- 
fess to  me  and  to  challenge  me  to  make  what  use 
I  could  of  the  confession.  But  the  next  instant 
the  momentary  candour  of  his  regard  passed,  and 
blankness  spread  over  his  face  again. 

Desperately  I  struggled  with  myself,  clinging 
to  self-control.  To  this  day  I  believe  that,  had 


306  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

my  life  and  my  life  only  been  in  question,  I 
should  then  and  there  have  compelled  Mouraki 
to  fight  me,  man  to  man,  in  the  little  gloomy 
room  where  the  dead  woman  lay  on  the  sofa :  we 
should  not  have  disturbed  her.  And  I  think  also 
that  Mouraki,  who  did  not  want  for  courage, 
would  have  caught  at  my  challenge  and  cried 
content  to  a  proposal  that  we  should,  there  and 
then,  put  our  quarrel  to  an  issue,  and  that  one 
only  of  us  should  go  alive  down  the  hill.  I  read 
such  a  mood  in  his  eyes  in  the  moment  of  their 
candour ;  I  saw  the  courage  to  act  on  it  in  his 
resolute  lips  and  his  tense,  still  attitude. 

Well,  we  could  neither  of  us  afford  the  luxury. 
If  I  killed  him,  I  should  bring  grave  suspicion  on 
Phroso ;  she  and  her  islanders  would  be  held 
accomplices ;  and,  though  this  was  a  secondary 
matter  to  hot  rage,  I  myself  should  stand  in  a 
position  of  great  danger.  And  he  could  not  kill 
me ;  for  all  his  schemes  against  me  were  still 
controlled  and  limited  by  the  necessities  of  his 
position.  Had  I  been  an  islander,  or  even  an 
unknown  man  concerning  whom  no  questions 
would  be  asked,  his  work  would  have  been 
simple,  and,  as  I  believed,  would  have  been 
carried  out  before  now.  But  it  was  not  so ;  he 
would  be  held  responsible  for  a  satisfactory 
account  of  how  I  met  my  death.  It  would  tax  his 
invention  to  give  it  if  he  killed  me  himself,  with 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  307 

his  own  hand,  and  in  a  secret  encounter.  In 
fact  the  rinding  of  the  note  left  us  where  we 
were,  so  far  as  action  was  concerned ;  but  it  tore 
away  the  last  shreds  of  the  veil,  the  last  pretences 
of  good  faith  and  friendliness  which  had  been 
kept  up  between  us.  In  those  swift,  full,  open 
glances  which  we  had  exchanged,  our  undisguised 
quarrel,  the  great  issue  between  us,  was  legibly 
written  and  plainly  read.  Yet  not  a  word  passed 
our  lips  concerning  it.  Mouraki  and  I  began  to 
need  words  no  more  than  lovers  do ;  for  hate 
matches  love  in  penetration. 

I  put  the  note  in  my  pocket.  Mouraki  blinked 
eyes  now  utterly  free  from  expression.  I  gave  a 
final  glance  at  the  dead  woman ;  I  felt  a  touch  of 
shame  at  having  fora  moment  forgotten  her  fate 
for  my  quarrel. 

"  Shall  we  go  down,  Pasha?  "  said  I. 

"  As  soon  as  you  please,  Lord  Wheatley,"  he 
answered.  This  formal  mode  of  address  was  per- 
haps an  acknowledgment  that  the  time  for  hypo- 
crisy and  the  hollow  show  of  friendship  between 
us  was  over.  The  change  was  just  in  his  way, 
slight,  subtle,  but  sufficient. 

I  followed  Mouraki  out  of  the  house.  He 
walked  in  his  usual  slow,  deliberate  manner.  He 
beckoned  to  the  sentry  as  we  passed  him,  told 
him  that  two  women  who  would  shortly  come  up 
were  to  be  admitted,  but  nobody  else,  until  an 


3°8  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

officer  came,  bearing  further  orders.  Having 
made  these  arrangements,  he  resumed  his  way 
down,  taking  his  place  in  front  of  me  and  main- 
taining absolute  silence.  I  did  not  care  to  talk. 
I  had  enough  to  think  about.  But  already,  now 
I  was  out  in  the  fresh  air,  the  feeling  of  sick 
horror  with  which  the  little  room  had  affected 
me  began  to  pass  away.  I  felt  braced  up  again. 
I  was  better  prepared  for  the  great  effort  which 
loomed  before  me  now  as  a  present  and  urgent 
necessity.  Mouraki  had  found  an  instrument  ; 
he  had  set  Constantine  free,  that  Constantine 
might  do  against  me  what  Mouraki  himself  could 
not  do  openly.  My  friends  were  away.  The 
hour  of  the  stroke  must  even  now  be  upon  me. 
Well,  the  hour  of  my  counter-stroke  was  come 
also,  the  counter-stroke  for  which  my  interview 
with  Phroso  and  Mouraki's  absence  opened  the 
way.  For  he  thought  the  passage  no  more  than 
a  mediaeval  curiosity ! 

We  reached  the  house  and  entered  the  hall 
together.  As  we  passed  through  the  compound 
I  had  seen  an  alert  sentinel.  Looking  out  from 
the  front  door,  I  perceived  two  men  on  guard. 
A  party  of  ten  or  a  dozen  more  was  drawn  up, 
an  officer  at  its  head ;  these  were  the  men  who 
waited  to  attend  Mouraki  on  his  evening  expe- 
dition. The  Pasha  seated  himself  and  wrote 
a  note  ;  he  looked  up  as  he  finished  it,  saying, — 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  309 

"  I  am  informing  the  Lady  Euphrosyne  that 
you  will  await  her  here  in  half-an-hour's  time, 
and  that  she  is  at  liberty  to  spend  what  time  she 
pleases  with  you.  Is  that  what  you  wish  ?  " 

"  Precisely,  your  Excellency.  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you." 

His  only  answer  was  a  dignified  bow  ;  but  he 
turned  to  a  sub-officer  who  stood  by  him  at  at- 
tention and  said :  "  On  no  account  allow  Lord 
Wheatley  to  be  interrupted  this  evening.  You 
will,  of  course,  keep  the  sentries  on  guard  behind 
and  in  front  of  the  house,  but  do  not  let  them 
intrude  here." 

After  giving  his  orders,  the  Pasha  sat  silent  for 
some  minutes.  He  had  lighted  his  cigarette,  and 
smoked  it  slowly.  Then  he  let  it  out — a  thing 
I  had  never  seen  him  do  before — lit  another,  and 
resumed  his  slow  inhalings.  I  knew  that  he 
would  speak  before  long,  and  after  a  few  more 
moments  he  gave  me  the  result  of  his  medita- 
tions. We  were  now  alone  together. 

"  It  would  have  been  much  better,"  said  he, 
"  if  that  poor  woman — whose  fate  I  sincerely  re- 
gret— had  been  let  alone,  and  this  girl  had  died 
instead  of  her,"  and  he  nodded  at  me  with  con- 
vinced emphasis. 

"  If  Phroso  had  died  !  "  leaped  from  my  lips  in 
astonishment. 

"Yes,  if   Phroso   had   died.     We  would  have 


Phroso:  A  Romance. 

hanged  Constantine  together,  wept  together  over 
her  grave,  and  each  of  us  gone  home  with  a 
sweet  memory — you  to  your  fiancee,  I  to  my 
work.  And  we  should  have  forgiven  one  another 
any  little  causes  of  reproach." 

To  this  speculation  in  might-have-beens  I  made 
no  answer.  The  feelings  with  which  I  received 
it  showed  me,  had  I  still  needed  showing,  what 
Phroso  was  to  me.  I  had  been  shocked  and 
grieved  at  Francesca's  fate,  but  rather  that  a 
thousand  times  than  the  thing  on  which  Mouraki 
coolly  mused  ! 

"  It  would  have  been  much  better,  so  much 
better,"  he  repeated  with  a  curiously  regretful  in- 
tonation. 

"  The  only  thing  that  would  be  better  to  my 
thinking,"  I  said,  "  is  that  you  should  behave  as 
an  honourable  man  and  leave  this  lady  free  to  do 
as  she  wishes." 

"And  another  thing,  surely?"  he  asked,  smil- 
ing now.  "  That  you  should  behave  as  an  hon- 
ourable man  and  go  back  to  Miss  Hipgrave?" 
A  low  laugh  marked  the  point  he  had  scored. 
Then  he  added  with  his  usual  shrug,  "  We  are 
slaves,  we  men, — slaves  all !  " 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  completed  his  pre- 
parations for  going  out,  flinging  a  long  military 
cloak  over  his  shoulders.  His  momentary  ir- 
resolution, or  remorse,  or  what  you  will,  had 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  311 

passed.  His  speech  became  terse  and  resolute 
again. 

"  We  shall  meet  early  to-morrow,  I  expect,"  he 
said,  "  and  then  we  must  settle  this  matter.  Do 
I  understand  that  you  are  resolved  not  to  yield  ?  " 

"  I  am  absolutely  resolved,"  said  I,  and  at  the 
sight  of  his  calm,  sneering  face  my  temper  sud- 
denly got  the  better  of  me.  "  Yes,  I'm  resolved. 
You  can  do  what  you  like.  You  can  bribe  ruf- 
fians to  assassinate  me,  as  I  believe  you've  bribed 
Constantine." 

He  started  at  that,  as  a  man  will  at  plain 
speech,  even  though  the  plain  speech  tells  him 
nothing  that  he  did  not  know  of  the  speaker's 
mind. 

"The  blood  of  that  unhappy  woman  is  on  your 
head,"  I  cried  vehemently.  "  Through  your  act 
she  lies  dead.  If  a  like  fate  befalls  me,  the 
blame  of  that  will  be  on  your  head  also.  It  is 
you,  and  not  your  tool,  who  will  be  responsible." 

"  Responsible  !  "  he  echoed.  His  voice  was 
mocking  and  easy,  though  his  face  was  paler 
even  than  it  was  wont  to  be.  "Responsible? 
What  does  that  mean  ?  Responsible  to  whom  ?  " 

"  To  God,"  said  I. 

He  laughed  a  low,  derisive  laugh. 

"  Come,  that's  better,"  he  said.  "  I  expected 
you  to  say  public  opinion.  Your  sentiment  is 
more  respectable  than  that  clap-trap  of  public 


3i2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

opinion.  So  be  it.  I  shall  be  responsible.  Where 
will  you  be  ?  "  He  paused,  smiling,  and  ended, 
"And  where  Phroso?" 

My  self-restraint  was  exhausted.  I  sprang  up. 
In  another  moment  my  hands  would  have  been  on 
his  throat ;  the  next  I  suppose,  I  should  have  been 
a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  his  guard.  But  that 
was  not  his  wish  ;  he  had  shown  me  too  much 
now  to  be  content  with  less  than  my  life  :  and 
he  was  not  to  be  turned  from  his  scheme  either 
by  his  own  temper  or  by  mine.  He  had  moved 
towards  the  door  while  he  had  been  speaking 
to  me  :  as  I  sprang  at  him,  a  quick  dexterous 
movement  of  his  hand  opened  it,  a  rapid  twist  of 
his  body  removed  him  from  my  reach.  He 
eluded  me  :  the  door  was  shut  in  my  face.  The 
Pasha's  low  laugh  reached  me,  as  I  sank  back 
again  in  my  chair,  still  raging  that  I  had  not  got 
him  by  the  throat,  but  in  an  instant  glad  also 
that  my  rashness  had  been  foiled. 

I  heard  the  tramp  of  his  party  on  their  orderly 
march  along  the  road  from  the  house.  Their 
steps  died  away,  and  all  was  very  still.  I  looked 
round  the  hall :  there  was  nobody  but  myself.  I 
rose  and  looked  into  the  kitchen :  it  was  empty. 
Mouraki  had  kept  his  word :  we  were  alone.  In 
front  there  were  sentries  :  behind  there  were  sen- 
tries;  but  the  house  was  mine.  Hope  rose  again, 
strong  and  urgent,  in  my  heart,  as  my  eyes  fell 


An  Unfinished  Letter.  313 

on  the  spot  under  the  staircase  where  lay  the  en- 
trance to  the  secret  passage.  I  looked  at  my 
watch :  it  was  eleven  o'clock :  the  wind  blew 
softly,  the  night  was  fine :  a  crescent  moon  was 
just  visible  through  the  narrow  windows.  The 
time  was  come,  the  time  left  free  by  Mouraki's 
strange  oversight. 

It  was  then,  and  then  only,  that  a  sudden 
gleam  of  enlightenment,  a  sudden  chilling  sus- 
picion, fell  upon  me,  transforming  my  hope  to 
fear,  my  triumph  to  doubt  and  misgiving.  Was 
Mouraki  Pasha  the  man  to  be  guilty  of  an  over- 
sight, of  so  plain  an  oversight  ?  When  an  enemy 
leaves  open  an  obvious  retreat,  is  it  always  by 
oversight  ?  When  he  seems  to  indicate  a  way 
of  safety,  is  the  way  safe  ?  These  disturbing 
thoughts  crowded  on  me  as  I  sat,  and  I  looked 
now  at  the  entrance  to  the  secret  passage  with 
new  eyes. 

The  sentries  were  behind  the  house :  the  sen- 
tries were  in  front  of  the  house :  in  neither  di- 
rection was  there  any  chance  of  escape.  One 
way  was  open — the  passage — and  that  one  way 
only.  And  I  asked  the  question  of  myself,  fram- 
ing the  words  in  an  inarticulate  low  whisper,  "  Is 
this  way  a  trap?  " 

"You  fool — you  fool — you  fool!"  I  cried, 
beating  my  fist  on  the  wooden  table. 

For  if  that  way  were  a  trap,  then  there  was  no 


314  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

way  of  safety,  and  the  last  hope  was  gone.  Had 
Mouraki  indeed  thought  of  the  passage  only  as 
a  mediaeval  curiosity  ?  Well,  were  not  oubliettes, 
down  which  a  man  went  and  was  seen  no  more, 
also  mediaeval  curiosities  ? 


CHAPTER  XVIL 
In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap. 

I  SAT  for  some  moments  in  stupefied  despair  ; 
the  fall  from  hope  was  so  great  and  sudden,  the 
revelation  of  my  blind  folly  so  cruel.  But  this 
mood  did  not  last  long ;  soon  I  was  busy  think- 
ing again.  Alas,  the  matter  gave  little  scope  for 
thought !  It  was  sadly  simple.  Before  the 
yacht  came  back,  Mouraki  would  have  it  settled 
once  for  all,  if  the  settling  of  it  were  left  to  him. 
Therefore  I  could  not  wait.  The  passage  might 
be  a  trap.  True  ;  but  the  house  was  a  prison, 
and  a  prison  whose  gate  I  could  not  open.  I  had 
rather  meet  my  fate  in  the  struggle  of  hot  effort 
than  wait  for  it  tamely,  here  in  my  chair.  And 
I  did  not  think  of  myself  alone  ;  Phroso's  interests 
also  pointed  to  action.  I  could  trust  Mouraki  to 
allow  no  harm  to  come  to  her ;  he  prized  her 
life  no  less  than  I  did.  To  her,  then,  the  pas- 
sage threatened  no  new  danger,  while  it  offered 
a  possible  slender  chance.  Would  she  come 
with  me?  If  she  would,  it  might  be  that  Kortes 
and  I — or  Kortes  or  I — might  by  some  kind  ca- 


316  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

price  of  fortune  bring  her  safe  out  of  Mouraki's 
hands.  On  the  top  of  these  calculations  came  a 
calm,  cool,  but  intense  anger,  urging  me  on  to 
try  the  issue,  hand  to  hand  and  man  to  man, 
whispering  to  me  that  nothing  was  impossible 
and  that  Mouraki  bore  no  charmed  life.  For  by 
now  I  was  ready — aye,  more  than  ready — to  kill 
him,  if  only  I  could  come  at  him,  and  I  made 
nothing  of  the  consequences  of  his  death  being 
laid  at  my  door.  So  is  prudence  burned  up  in 
the  bright  flame  of  a  man's  rage. 

I  knew  where  to  find  Kortes.  He  would  be 
keeping  his  faithful  watch  outside  his  Lady's 
room.  Mouraki  had  never  raised  any  objection 
to  this  attendance;  to  forbid  it  would  have  been 
to  throw  off  the  mask  before  the  moment  came, 
and  Mouraki  would  not  be  guilty  of  such  pre- 
mature disclosure  ;  moreover  the  Pasha  held  the 
men  of  Neopalia  in  no  great  respect,  and  cer- 
tainly did  not  think  that  a  single  islander  could 
offer  any  resistance  to  his  schemes.  I  went  to 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  called  softly  to  our 
trusty  adherent.  He  came  down  to  me  at  once, 
and  I  asked  him  about  Phroso. 

"She  is  alone  in  her  room,  my  lord,"  he  an- 
swered. "  The  Governor  has  sent  my  sister  away." 

"  Sent  her  away  !     Where  to  ?  " 

"  To  the  cottage  on  the  hill,"  said  he.  "  I  don't 
know  why  ;  the  Governor  spoke  to  her  apart." 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap,  317 

"  I  know  why,"  said  I,  and  I  told  him  briefly  of 
the  crime  which  had  been  done. 

"  That  man  should  not  live,"  said  Kortes.  "  I 
had  no  doubt  that  his  escape  was  allowed  in 
order  that  he  might  be  dangerous  to  you." 

"  Well,  he  hasn't  done  much  yet." 

"  No,  not  yet,"  said  Kortes  gravely.  I  am 
bound  to  add  that  he  took  the  news  of  Fran- 
cesca's  death  with  remarkable  coolness.  In  spite 
of  his  good  qualities,  Kortes  was  a  thorough 
Neopalian  ;  it  needed  much  to  perturb  him.  Be- 
sides, he  was  thinking  of  Phroso  only,  and  the 
affairs  of  everybody  else  passed  unheeded  by 
him.  This  was  very  evident  when  I  asked  his 
opinion  as  to  waiting  where  we  were  or  essaying 
the  way  that  Mouraki's  suspicious  carelessness 
seemed  to  leave  open  to  us. 

"  Oh,  the  passage,  my  lord  !  Let  it  be  the  pas- 
sage. For  you  and  me  the  passage  is  very  dan- 
gerous, yet  hardly  more  than  here,  and  the  Lady 
Phroso  has  her  only  chance  of  escape  through  the 
passage." 

"  You  think  it  very  dangerous  for  us  ?  " 

"  Possibly  one  of  us  will  come  through,"  he  said. 

"  And  at  the  other  end  ?  " 

"  There  may  be  a  boat.  If  there  is  none  she 
must  try  (and  we  with  her,  if  we  are  alive)  to 
steal  round  to  the  town,  and  hide  in  one  of  the 
houses  till  a  boat  can  be  found." 


318  Phrosoj  A  Romance* 

"  Mouraki  would  scour  the  island." 

"  Yes,  but  a  clear  hour  or  two  would  be 
enough,  if  we  could  get  her  into  a  boat." 

"  But  he'd  send  the  gunboat  after  her." 

"  Yes  ;  but,  my  lord,  am  I  saying  that  escape 
is  likely  ?  It  is  possible  only  ;  and  possibly  the 
boat  might  evade  pursuit." 

I  had  the  highest  regard  for  Kortes,  but  he 
was  not  a  very  cheering  companion  for  an  adven- 
ture. Given  the  same  desperate  circumstances, 
Denny  would  have  been  serenely  confident  of 
success  and  valiantly  scornful  of  our  opponent. 
I  heaved  a  regretful  sigh  for  him,  and  said  to 
Kortes,  with  a  little  irritation, — 

"  Hang  it,  we've  come  out  right  side  up  before 
now,  and  we  may  again.  Hadn't  we  better 
rouse  her?" 

During  this  conversation  Kortes  had  been 
standing  on  the  lowest  step  of  the  staircase,  and 
I,  facing  him,  on  the  floor  of  the  hall,  with  one 
hand  resting  on  the  balustrade.  We  had  talked 
in  low  tones,  partly  from  a  fear  of  eavesdroppers  ; 
even  more,  I  think,  from  the  influence  which  our 
position  exerted  over  us.  In  peril  men  speak 
softly.  Our  voices  sounded  as  no  more  than 
faint  murmurs  in  the  roomy  hall ;  consequently 

they  could  not  have  been  audible where  ?  In 

the  passage ! 

But,  as  I  spoke  to  Kortes  in  a   petulant,  re- 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap,  319 

proachful  whisper,  a  sound  struck  on  my  ear,  a 
very  little  sound.  I  caught  my  companion's  arm, 
imposing  silence  on  him  by  a  look.  The  sound 
came  again.  I  knew  it  well ;  I  had  heard  it 
before.  I  stepped  back  a  pace  and  looked 
round  the  balustrade  to  the  spot  where  the  en- 
trance to  the  passage  lay. 

I  should  have  been  past  surprise  now,  after 
my  sojourn  in  Neopalia.  But  I  was  not.  I 
sprang  back  with  a  cry  of  wonder,  almost  (must 
I  admit  it  ?)  of  alarm.  Small  and  faint  as  the 
noise  had  been,  it  had  sufficed  for  the  opening  of 
the  door,  and  in  the  opening  made  by  the  reced- 
ing of  the  planks  were  the  head  and  shoulders  of 
a  man.  His  face  was  hardly  a  yard  from  mine  ; 
and  was  the  face  of  Constantine  Stefanopoulos. 

In  the  instant  of  paralysed  immobility  that 
followed,  the  explanation  flashed  like  lightning 
through  my  brain.  Constantine,  buying  his 
liberty  and  pardon  from  Mouraki,  had  stolen 
along  the  passage ;  he  had  opened  the  door ;  he 
hoped  to  find  me  alone — if  not  alone,  yet  off  my 
guard — in  the  hall.  Then  a  single  shot  would  be 
enough  ;  his  errand  would  be  done,  his  pardon 
won.  That  my  explanation  was  right,  the  revol- 
ver in  his  hand  witnessed.  But  he  also  was  sur- 
prised ;  I  was  closer  than  he  thought,  so  close 
that  he  started  back  for  an  instant.  The  interval 
was  enough :  before  he  could  raise  his  weapon 


320  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

and  take  aim  I  put  my  head  down  between  my 
shoulders  and  rushed  at  him.  I  think  my  head 
knocked  his  arm  up  ;  his  revolver  went  off,  the 
noise  reverberating  through  the  hall.  I  almost 
had  hold  of  him  when  I  was  suddenly  seized 
from  behind  and  hurled  backwards ;  Kortes  had 
a  mind  to  come  first  and  stood  on  no  ceremony. 
But  in  the  instant  that  he  was  free  Constantine 
dived  down,  like  a  rabbit  into  a  burrow  ;  he  disap- 
peared ;  with  a  shouted  oath  Kortes  sprang  after 
him.  I  heard  the  feet  of  both  of  them  clattering 
down  the  flight  of  steps. 

For  a  single  moment  I  paused.  The  report 
had  echoed  loud  through  the  hall.  The  sentries 
must  have  heard  it, — the  sentries  before  the 
house,  the  sentries  in  the  compound  behind  the 
house.  Yet  none  of  them  rushed  in ;  not  a 
movement,  not  a  word,  not  a  challenge  came 
from  them.  Mouraki  Pasha  kept  good  disci- 
pline ;  his  orders  were  law,  his  directions  held 
good,  though  shots  rang  loud  and  startling 
through  the  house.  Even  at  that  moment  I  gave 
a  short,  sharp  laugh  ;  for  I  remembered  that  on 
no  account  was  Lord  Wheatley  to  be  interrupted  ; 
no,  neither  Lord  Wheatley  nor  the  man  who 
came  to  kill  Lord  Wheatley  was  to  be  inter- 
rupted. Oh,  Mouraki,  Mouraki,  your  score  was 
mounting  up  !  Should  you  ever  pay  the  reckon, 
ing? 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap.  321 

Shorter  far  than  it  has  taken  to  write  my 
thoughts  was  the  pause  during  which  they  gal- 
loped through  my  palpitating  brain.  In  a  second 
I  also  was  down  the  flight  of  stairs  beyond.  I 
heard  still  the  footsteps  in  front  of  me,  but  I 
could  see  nothing.  It  was  very  dark  that  night 
in  the  passage.  I  ran  on,  yet  I  seemed  to  come 
no  nearer  to  the  steps  in  front  of  me.  But  sud- 
denly I  paused,  for  now  there  were  steps  behind 
me  also,  light  steps,  but  sounding  distinct  in  my 
ear.  Then  a  voice  cried,  in  terror  and  distress, 
"  My  lord,  don't  leave  me,  my  lord  ! " 

I  turned.  Even  in  the  deep  gloom  I  saw  a 
gleam  of  white  :  a  moment  later  I  caught  Phroso 
by  both  her  hands. 

"  The  shot,  the  shot  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Constantine.  He  shot  at  me — no,  I'm  not 
hurt.  Kortes  is  after  him." 

She  swayed  towards  me :  I  caught  her  and 
passed  my  arm  round  her ;  without  that  she 
would  have  fallen  on  the  rocky  floor  of  the  dim 
passage. 

"  I  heard  it  and  rushed  down,"  she  panted. 
"  I  heard  it  from  my  room." 

"Any  sign  of  the  sentries?" 

"No." 

"  I  must  go  and  help  Kortes." 

"  Not  without  me  ?  " 

"  You  must  wait  here." 


322  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Not  without  you."  Her  arms  held  me  now 
by  the  shoulders  with  a  stronger  grip  than  I  had 
thought  possible.  She  would  not  let  me  go. 
Well,  then,  we  must  face  it  together. 

"  Come  along  then,"  said  I.  "  I  can  see  noth- 
ing in  this  rat-hole." 

Suddenly  from  in  front  of  us  a  cry  rang  out ; 
it  was  some  distance  off :  we  started  towards  it, 
for  it  was  Kortes's  voice  that  cried. 

"  Be  careful,  be  careful,"  urged  Phroso.  "  We're 
near  the  bridge  now." 

It  was  true.  As  she  spoke  the  walls  of  rock 
on  either  side  receded :  we  had  come  to  the 
opening:  the  dark  water  was  below  us,  and  be- 
fore us  the  isolated  bridge  of  rock  that  spanned 
the  pool.  We  were  where  the  Lord  of  the  island 
had  been  wont  to  hurl  his  enemy  headlong  from 
his  side  to  death. 

What  happened  on  the  bridge, — on  the  narrow 
bridge  of  rock  which  ran  in  front  of  us?  We 
could  not  see.  But  from  it  came  strange  sounds, 
low  oaths  and  mutterings,  the  scraping  of  men's 
limbs  and  the  rasping  of  cloth  on  the  rock,  the 
hard  breathings  of  struggling  combatants ;  now 
a  fierce,  low  cry  of  triumph,  a  disappointed  curse, 
a  desperate  groan,  the  silence  that  marked  a 
culminating  effort.  Now,  straining  my  eyes  to 
the  uttermost,  and  having  grown  a  little  more 
accustomed  to  the  darkness,  I  discerned,  beyond 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap.  323 

the  centre  of  the  bridge,  a  coiling,  writhing  mass 
that  seemed  some  one  many-limbed  animal,  but 
was  in  truth  two  men,  twisted  and  turned  round 
about  one  another  in  an  embrace  which  could 
have  no  end  save  death.  Which  was  Kortes, 
which  Constantine,  I  could  not  tell ;  how  they 
came  there  I  could  not  tell ;  I  dared  not  fire  ; 
Phroso  hung  about  me  in  a  paroxysm  of  fear,  her 
hands  holding  me  motionless  ;  I  myself  was  awed 
and  fascinated  by  the  dim  spectacle  and  the 
confused  sounds  of  that  mortal  strife. 

Backward  and  forward,  to  and  fro,  up  and 
down,  they  writhed  and  rolled.  Now  they  hung, 
a  protrusion  of  deeper  blackness,  over  the  black 
gulf  on  this  side,  now  on  that.  Now  the  mass 
separated  a  little  as  one  pressed  the  other  down- 
wards and  seemed  about  to  hurl  his  enemy  over 
and  himself  remain  triumphant ;  now  that  one 
in  his  turn  tottered  on  the  edge  as  if  to  fall  and 
leave  the  other  panting  on  the  bridge.  Again 
they  were  mixed  together,  so  that  I  could  not 
tell  which  was  which,  and  the  strange  appear- 
ance of  a  single  writhing,  crawling  shape  re- 
turned. Then  suddenly,  from  both  at  once,  rang 
out  cries  :  there  were  dread  and  surprise  in  one  ; 
fierce,  uncalculating,  self-forgetful  triumph  in  the 
other.  Not  even  for  Phroso's  sake  or  the  band 
of  her  encircling  arms  could  I  rest  longer. 
Roughly  I  fear,  at  least  with  suddenness,  I  dis- 


324  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

engaged  myself  from  her  grasp.  She  cried  out 
in  protest  and  in  fear,  "  Don't  go,  don't  leave 
me  !  "  I  could  not  rest.  Recollecting  the  peril, 
I  yet  rushed  quickly  on  to  the  bridge,  and 
moved  warily  along  its  narrow,  perilous  way. 
But  even  as  I  came  near  the  two  who  fought  in 
the  middle,  there  was  a  deep  groan,  a  second 
wild  triumphant  cry,  a  great  lurch  of  the  mass,  a 
moment — a  short,  short  moment — when  it  hung 
poised  over  the  yawning  vault  ;  and  then  an  in- 
stant of  utter  stillness.  I  waited  as  a  boy  waits 
to  hear  the  stone  he  has  thrown  strike  the  water 
at  the  bottom  of  the  well.  The  stone  struck  the 
water  ;  there  was  a  great  resounding  splash  ;  the 
water  moved  beneath  the  blow  ;  I  saw  its  dark 
gleam  agitated.  Then  all  was  still  again  ;  and 
the  passage  of  the  bridge  was  clear. 

I  walked  to  the  spot  where  the  struggle  had 
been,  and  whence  the  two  had  fallen  together. 
I  knelt  down  and  gazed  into  the  chasm.  Three 
times  I  called  Kortes's  name.  No  answer  came 
up.  I  could  discern  no  movement  of  the  dark 
waters.  They  had  sunk,  the  two  together,  and 
neither  rose.  Perhaps  both  were  wounded  to 
death,  perhaps  only  their  fatal  embrace  prevented 
all  effort  for  life.  I  could  see  nothing  and  hear 
nothing.  My  heart  was  heavy  for  Kortes,  a 
brave,  true  man  and  our  only  friend;  in  the  death 
of  Constantine  I  saw  less  than  his  fitting  punish- 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap.  325 

ment ;  yet  I  was  glad  that  he  was  gone  and  the 
long  line  of  his  villainies  closed.  This  last  at- 
tempt had  been  a  bold  one.  Mouraki,  no  doubt, 
had  forced  him  to  it ;  even  a  craven  will  be  bold 
where  the  penalty  of  cowardice  is  death.  Yet 
he  had  not  dared  to  stand  when  discovered  ;  he 
had  fled,  and  must  have  been  flying  when  Kortes 
came  up  and  grappled  with  him.  For  a  snap- 
shot at  an  unwary  man  he  had  found  courage, 
but  not  for  a  fair  fight.  He  was  an  utter  coward 
after  all ;  he  was  well  dead  and  his  wife  well 
avenged. 

But  it  was  fatal  to  linger  here.  Mouraki  would 
be  expecting  the  return  of  his  emissary.  I  saw 
now  clearly  that  the  Pasha  had  prepared  the  way 
for  Constantine's  attempt.  If  no  news  came,  he 
would  not  wait  long.  I  put  my  reflections  be- 
hind me  and  walked  briskly  back  to  where  I  had 
left  Phroso.  I  found  her  lying  on  the  ground ; 
she  seemed  to  be  in  a  faint ;  setting  my  face  close 
to  hers  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were  shut  and  her 
lips  parted ;  I  sat  down  by  her  in  the  narrow 
passage  and  supported  her  head  on  my  arm. 
Then  I  took  out  a  flask,  and  pouring  some  of 
the  brandy-and-water  it  contained  into  the  cup, 
forced  a  little  between  her  lips.  With  a  heavy 
sigh  she  opened  her  eyes  and  shuddered. 

"  It  is  over,"  I  said.  "  There's  no  need  to  be 
afraid  ;  all  is  over  now." 


326  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  Constantine  ?  " 

"  He  is  dead." 

"  And  Kortes  ?  " 

"  They  are  both  gone.  They  fell  together  into 
the  pool  and  must  be  dead  ;  there's  no  sound 
from  it." 

A  frightened  sob  was  her  answer ;  she  put  her 
hand  up  to  her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  dear  Kortes !  "  she  whispered,  and  I 
heard  her  sob  gently  again. 

"  He  was  a  brave  man,"  said  I.  "  God  rest  his 
soul." 

"  He  loved  me,"  she  said  simply,  between  her 
sobs.  "  He — he  and  his  sister  were  the  only 
friends  I  had." 

"  You  have  other  friends,"  said  I,  and  my  voice 
was  well-nigh  as  low  as  hers. 

"You  are  very  good  to  me,  my  lord,"  she  said, 
and  she  conquered  her  sobs  and  lay  still,  her 
head  on  my  arm,  her  hair  enveloping  my  hand  in 
its  silken  masses. 

"  We  must  go  on,"  said  I.  "We  mustn't  stay 
here.  Our  only  chance  is  to  go  on." 

"  Chance  ?  Chance  of  what  ?  "  she  echoed  in  a 
little  despairing  murmur.  "  Where  am  I  to  go? 
Why  should  I  struggle  any  more?" 

"  Would  you  fall  into  Mouraki's  power  ?  "  I 
asked  from  between  set  lips. 

"No;  but  I  need  not.     I  have  my  dagger." 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap.  327 

"  God  forbid  !  "  I  cried  in  sudden  horror  ;  and 
in  spite  of  myself  I  felt  my  hand  tighten  and 
press  her  head  among  the  coils  of  her  hair.  She 
also  felt  it  ;  she  raised  herself  on  her  elbow, 
turned  to  me,  and  sent  a  straining  look  into  my 
eyes.  What  answer  could  I  make  to  it  ?  I 
averted  my  face  ;  she  dropped  her  head  between 
her  hands  on  the  rocky  floor. 

"  We  must  go,"  said  I  again.  "  Can  you  walk, 
Phroso  ?  " 

I  did  not  notice  the  name  I  called  her,  nor  did 
she  appear  to  mark  it. 

"  I  can't  go,"  she  moaned.  "  Let  me  stay 
here.  I  can  get  back  to  the  house,  perhaps." 

"  I  won't  leave  you  here.  I  won't  leave  you 
to  Mouraki." 

"  It  will  not  be  to  Mouraki,  it  will  be  to " 

I  caught  her  hand,  crying  in  a  low  whisper, 
"  No,  no  !  " 

"  What  else  ?  "  she  asked,  again  sitting  up  and 
looking  at  me. 

"  We  must  make  a  push  for  safety,  as  we 
meant  to  before." 

"  Safety  ?  "  Her  lips  bent  in  a  sadly  derisive 
little  smile.  "  What  is  this  safety  you  talk 
about?"  she  seemed  to  say. 

"  Yes,  safety." 

"  Ah,  yes,  you  must  be  safe,"  she  said,  appear- 
ing to  awake  suddenly  to  a  consciousness  of 


328  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

something  forgotten.  "  Ah,  yes,  my  lord,  you 
must  be  safe.  Don't  linger,  my  lord.  Don't 
linger !  " 

"  Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  alone?  "  I  asked, 
and  in  spite  of  everything  I  could  not  help  smil- 
ing as  I  put  the  question.  I  believe  she  really 
thought  that  the  course  in  question  might  com- 
mend itself  to  me. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  You  wouldn't  go  alone. 
But  I 1  can't  cross  that  awful  bridge." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can,"  said  I.  "  Come  along," 
and  I  rose  and  held  out  my  arms  towards  her. 

She  looked  at  me,  the  tears  still  on  her  cheeks, 
a  doubtful  smile  dawning  on  her  lips. 

"  My  dear  lord,"  she  said  very  softly,  and  stood 
while  I  put  my  arms  round  her  and  lifted  her  till 
she  lay  easily.  Then  came  what  I  think  was  the 
hardest  thing  of  all  to  bear.  She  let  her  head 
fall  on  my  shoulder  and  lay  trustfully — I  could 
almost  say  luxuriously — back  in  my  arms ;  a 
little  happy  sigh  of  relief  and  peace  came  from 
her  lips,  her  eyes  closed,  she  was  content. 

Well,  I  started ;  and  I  shall  not  record  pre- 
cisely what  I  thought  as  I  started.  What  I 
ought  to  have  thought  about  was  picking  my 
way  over  the  bridge,  and  if  more  matter  for  con- 
sideration were  needed,  I  might  have  speculated 
on  the  best  thing  to  do  when  we  reached  the 
outlet  of  this  passage.  Suppose,  then,  that  I 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap*  329 

thought  about  what  I  ought  to  have  thought 
about. 

"  Keep  still  while  we're  on  the  bridge,"  said  I 
to  Phroso.  "  It's  not  over  broad,  you  know." 

A  little  movement  of  the  head,  till  it  rested  in 
yet  greater  seeming  comfort,  was  Phroso's  only 
disobedience  ;  for  the  rest  she  was  absolutely  still. 
It  was  fortunate ;  for  to  cross  that  bridge  in  the 
dark,  carrying  a  lady,  was  not  a  job  I  cared  much 
about.  However,  we  came  to  the  other  side ; 
the  walls  of  rock  closed  in  again  on  either  hand, 
and  I  felt  the  way  begin  to  slope  downwards  un- 
der my  feet. 

"Does  it  go  pretty  straight  now?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  quite  straight.  You  can't  miss  it, 
my  lord,"  said  Phroso,  and  another  little  sigh  of 
content  followed  the  words.  I  had,  I  suppose, 
little  enough  to  laugh  at,  but  I  did  laugh  very 
gently  and  silently,  and  I  did  not  propose  that 
Phroso  should  walk. 

"  Are  you  tired  ? "  she  said  presently,  just 
opening  her  eyes  for  an  instant. 

"  I  could  carry  you  for  ever,"  I  answered. 

Phroso  smiled  under  lazy  lids  that  closed 
again. 

In  spite  of  Phroso's  assurance  of  its  simple 
straightness  the  road  had  many  twists  and  turns 
in  it,  and  I  had  often  to  ask  my  way.  Phroso 
gave  me  directions  at  once  and  without  hesita- 


33°  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

tion.  Evidently  she  was  thoroughly  familiar 
with  the  track.  When  I  remarked  on  this  she 
said,  "  Oh,  yes,  I  often  used  to  come  this  way. 
It  leads  to  such  a  pretty  cave,  you  know." 

"Then  it  doesn't  come  out  at  the  same  point 
as  the  way  my  friends  took  ?  " 

"  No,  more  than  a  mile  away  from  that.  We 
must  be  nearly  there  now.  Are  you  tired,  my 
lord?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  I,  and  Phroso  accepted  the 
answer  without  demur. 

There  can,  however,  be  no  harm  in  admitting 
now  that  I  was  tired,  not  so  much  from  carrying 
Phroso,  though,  as  from  the  strain  of  the  day 
and  the  night  that  I  had  passed  through  ;  and  I 
hailed  with  joy  a  glimmer  of  light  which  danced 
before  my  eyes  at  the  end  of  a  long  straight  tun- 
nel. We  were  going  down  rapidly  now ;  and, 
hark,  there  was  the  wash  of  water  welcoming  us 
to  the  outer  air  and  the  light  of  the  upper  world  ; 
for  day  had  just  dawned  as  we  came  to  the  end 
of  the  way.  The  light  that  I  saw  ahead  was 
ruddy  with  the  rays  of  the  new-risen  sun. 

"  Ah,"  sighed  Phroso  happily,  "  I  hear  the 
sea.  Oh,  I  smell  it.  And  see,  my  lord,  the 
light!" 

I  turned  from  the  light,  joyful  as  was  the 
beholding  of  it,  to  the  face  which  lay  close  by 
mine.  That,  too,  I  could  see  now  for  the  first 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap*  331 

time  plainly.  I  met  Phroso's  eyes.  A  slight 
tinge  of  colour  dyed  her  cheeks,  but  she  lay  still, 
looking  at  me ;  and  she  said  softly  in  low,  rich 
tones, — 

"You  look  very  weary.  Let  me  walk  now, 
my  lord." 

"  No,  we'll  go  on  to  the  end  now,"  I  said. 

The  end  was  near.  Another  five  minutes 
brought  us  where,  once  again,  the  enfolding 
walls  spread  out ;  the  path  broadened  into  a 
stony  beach  ;  above  us  the  rocks  formed  an  arch  ; 
we  were  in  a  little  cave,  and  the  waves  rolled 
gently  to  and  fro  on  the  margin  of  the  beach. 
The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  narrow  and  low,  the 
rocks  leaving  only  about  a  yard  between  them- 
selves above  and  the  water  below ;  there  was 
just  room  for  a  boat  to  pass  out  and  in.  Phroso 
sprang  from  my  arms,  and  streched  out  her  hands 
to  the  light. 

"Ah,  if  we  had  a  boat!"  I  cried,  running  to 
the  water's  edge. 

Had  the  luck  indeed  changed  and  fortune 
begun  to  smile  ?  It  seemed  so,  for  I  had  hardly 
spoken  when  Phroso  suddenly  clapped  her  hands 
and  cried, — 

"  A  boat !  There  is  a  boat,  my  lord,"  and  she 
sprang  forward  and  caught  me  by  the  hand,  her 
eyes  sparkling. 

It  was  true — by  marvel  it  was  true !     A  good, 


33 2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

stout,  broad-bottomed  little  fishing-boat  lay 
beached  on  the  shingle,  with  its  sculls  lying  in  it. 
How  had  it  come  ?  Well,  I  didn't  stop  to  ask 
that ;  my  eyes  met  Phroso's  in  delight.  The  joy 
of  our  happy  fortune  overcame  us.  I  think  that 
for  the  moment  we  forgot  the  terrible  events 
which  had  happened  before  our  eyes,  the  sadness 
of  the  parting  which,  at  the  best,  lay  before  us. 
Both  her  hands  were  in  mine  ;  we  were  happy 
as  two  children  prosperously  launched  on  some 
wonderful  fairy-tale  adventure — Prince  and  Prin- 
cess in  their  cockle-boat  on  a  magic  sea. 

"Isn't  it  wonderful?"  cried  Phroso.  "Ah, 
my  lord,  all  goes  well  with  you.  I  think  God 
loves  you,  my  lord,  as  much  as " 

She  stopped.  A  rush  of  rich  colour  flooded 
her  cheeks.  Her  deep  eyes,  which  had  gleamed 
in  exultant  merriment,  sank  to  the  ground.  Her 
hands  loosed  mine. 

" as  the  lady  who  waits  for  you  loves  you, 

my  lord,"  she  said. 

I  do  not  know  how  it  was,  but  Phroso's  words 
summoned  up  before  my  eyes  a  vision  of  Beatrice 
Hipgrave  pursuing  her  cheerful  way  through  the 
gaieties  of  the  season — or  was  she  in  the  country 
by  now  ? — without  wasting  very  many  thoughts 
on  the  foolish  man  who  had  gone  to  the  horrid 
island.  The  picture  of  her  as  the  lady  who 
waited  for  a  lover,  forlorn  because  he  tarried, 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap.  333 

struck  with  a  bitter  amusement  on  my  sense  of 
humour.  Phroso  saw  me  smile ;  her  eyes  asked 
a  wondering  question.  I  did  not  answer  it,  but 
turned  away  and  walked  down  to  where  the  boat 
lay. 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said  coldly,  "  that  this  is  the 
best  chance?  " 

"  It  is  the  only  chance,  my  lord,"  she  an- 
swered ;  but  her  eyes  were  still  puzzled,  and  her 
tone  was  almost  careless,  as  if  the  matter  of  our 
escape  had  ceased  to  be  the  thing  which  pressed 
most  urgently  on  her  mind.  I  could  say  nothing 
to  enlighten  her  ;  not  from  my  lips,  which  longed 
to  forswear  her,  could  come  the  slightest  word 
in  depreciation  of  "  the  lady  who  waited." 

"  Will  you  get  in  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Phroso.  The  joy  was  gone  out  of 
her  voice  and  out  of  her  eyes. 

I  helped  her  into  the  boat,  then  I  launched  it ; 
when  it  floated  clear  on  the  water  of  the  cave  I 
jumped  in  myself  and  took  the  sculls.  Phroso 
sat  silent  and  now  pale-faced  in  the  stern.  I 
struck  the  water  with  my  blades  and  the  boat 
moved.  A  couple  of  strokes  took  us  across  the 
cave.  We  reached  the  mouth.  I  felt  the  sun  on 
my  neck  with  its  faint  early  warmth ;  that  is  a 
good  feeling  and  puts  heart  in  a  man. 

"  Ah,  but  the  sea  and  the  air  are  good,"  said 
Phroso.  "  And  it  is  good  to  be  free,  my  lord." 


334  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

I  looked  at  her ;  the  sun  had  caught  her  eyes 
now,  and  the  gleam  in  them  seemed  to  fire  me. 
I  forgot something  that  I  ought  to  have  re- 
membered. I  rested  for  a  moment  on  my  oars, 
and,  leaning  forward,  said  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  Aye,  to  be  free,  and  together,  Phroso." 

Again  came  the  flash  of  colour,  again  the  sud- 
den happy  dancing  of  her  eyes,  and  the  smile 
that  curved  in  unconquerable  willfulness ;  I 
stretched  out  a  hand,  and  Phroso's  hand  stole 
timidly  to  meet  it.  Well — surely  the  Recording 
Angel  looked  away ! 

Thus  were  we,  just  outside  the  cave  ;  there 
rose  a  straight  rock  on  the  left  hand,  ending  in  a 
level  top  some  four  feet  above  our  heads.  And 
as  our  hands  approached,  and  our  eyes — those 
quicker  foregatherers — met,  there  came  from  the 
top  of  the  rock  a  laugh,  a  low  chuckle  that  I 
knew  well.  I  don't  think  I  looked  up  ;  I  looked 
still  at  Phroso.  As  I  looked,  her  colour  fled, 
fright  leaped  into  her  eyes,  her  lips  quivered  in 
horror.  I  knew  the  truth  from  her  face. 

"Very  nice!  But  what  have  you  done  with 
Cousin  Constantine?"  asked  Mouraki  Pasha. 

The  trap,  then,  had  double  jaws,  and  we  had 
escaped  Constantine  only  to  fall  into  the  hands 
of  his  master.  It  was  so  like  Mouraki,  I  was  so 
much  aghast  and  yet  so  little  surprised,  the  fall 
was  so  sudden,  our  defeat  so  ludicrous,  that  I  be- 


In  the  Jaws  of  the  Trap,  335 

lieve  I  smiled  as  I  turned  my  eyes  from  Phroso's 
and  cast  a  glance  at  the  Pasha. 

"  I  might  have  known  it,  you  know,"  said   I 
aloud. 


CHAPTER  XVm. 
The  Unknown  Friend, 

THE  boat  still  moved  a  little  from  the  impulse 
of  my  last  stroke,  and  we  floated  slowly  past 
Mouraki,  who  stood  like  some  great  sea-bird  on 
the  rock.  To  his  cynical  question — for  it  re- 
vealed shamelessly  the  use  he  had  meant  to  make 
of  his  tool — I  returned  no  answer.  I  could  smile 
in  amused  bitterness,  but  for  the  moment  I 
could  not  speak.  Phroso  sat  with  downcast 
eyes,  twisting  one  hand  round  the  other ;  the 
Pasha  was  content  to  answer  my  smile  with  his 
own.  The  boat  drew  past  the  rock,  and,  as  we 
came  round  its  elbow,  I  found  across  our  path  a 
larger  boat,  manned  by  four  of  Mouraki's  soldiers, 
who  had  laid  down  their  oars  and  sat  rifles  in 
hand ;  in  the  coxswain's  place  was  Demetri ;  it 
seemed  strange  to  find  him  in  that  company. 
One  of  the  soldiers  took  hold  of  the  nose  of  our 
boat  and  turned  it  round,  impelling  it  towards 
the  beach.  A  moment  later  we  grated  on  the 
shingle,  where  the  Pasha,  who  had  leaped  down 
nimbly  from  his  perch,  stood  awaiting  us. 


The  Unknown  Friend.  337 

Thoughts  had  been  running  rapidly  through  my 
brain,  wild  thoughts  of  resistance,  of  a  sudden 
rush,  of  emptying  my  revolver  haphazard  into 
the  other  boat, — aye,  even  of  assassinating  Mou- 
raki  with  an  unexpected  shot.  All  that  was  folly  ; 
I  let  it  go,  sprang  from  the  boat,  and,  giving  my 
hand  to  Phroso,  helped  her  to  land,  and  led  her 
to  a  broad,  smooth  ledge  of  rock,  on  which  she 
seated  herself,  still  silent,  but  giving  me  a  look 
of  grief  and  despair.  Then  I  turned  to  the  Pasha. 

"  I  think,"  said  I,  "  that  you'll  have  to  wait  a 
day  or.  two  for  Cousin  Constantine.  I'm  told 
that  bodies  don't  find  their  way  out  so  soon  as 
living  men." 

"  Ah,  I  thought  that  must  be  it !  You  threw 
him  down  into  the  pool  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  not  I.     My  friend  Kortes." 

"And  Kortes?" 

"  They  fell  together." 

"  How  very  dramatic,"  smiled  the  Pasha. 
"  How  came  you  to  let  Kortes  have  at  him 
first  ?  " 

"  Believe  me,  it  was  unintentional ;  it  was 
without  any  design  of  disappointing  you,  Pasha." 

"  And  there's  an  end  of  both  of  them ! "  said 
he,  smiling  at  my  hit. 

"  They  must  both  be  dead.  Forgive  me, 
Pasha,  but  I  don't  understand  your  comedy. 
We  were  in  your  power  at  the  house  ;  why  play 


338  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

this  farce?  Why  not  have  done  then  what  I 
presume  you  will  do  now  ?  " 

"  My  dear  lord,"  said  he,  after  a  glance  round 
to  see  that  nobody  listened,  "  the  conventions 
must  be  observed.  Yesterday  you  had  not  com- 
mitted the  offences  of  which  I  regret  to  say  you 
have  now  been  guilty." 

"  The  offences  ?  You  amuse  me,  Pasha." 
"  I  don't  grudge  it  you,"  said  Mouraki.  "Yes, 
the  offences  of  aiding  my  prisoner — that  lady — 
to  escape,  and — well,  the  death  of  Constantine  is 
at  least  a  matter  for  inquiry,  isn't  it  ?  You'll 
admit  that  ?  The  man  was  a  rogue,  of  course, 
but  we  must  observe  the  law,  my  dear  Wheat- 
ley.  Besides "  He  paused,  then  he  added  : 

"  You  mustn't  grudge  me  my  amusement,  either. 
Believe  me,  your  joy  at  rinding  that  boat,  which 
I  caused  to  be  placed  there  for  your  convenience, 
and  the  touching  little  scene  which  I  interrupted, 
occasioned  me  infinite  diversion." 

I  made  no  answer,  and  he  continued, — 

"  I   was   sure   that   if well,  if   Constantine 

failed  in  perpetrating  his  last  crime — you  follow 
me,  my  dear  lord? — you  would  make  for  the 
passage,  so  I  obtained  the  guidance  of  that  faith- 
ful [fellow,  Demetri,  and  he  brought  us  round 
very  comfortably.  Indeed  we've  been  waiting 
some  little  while  for  you.  Of  course  Phroso  de- 
layed you." 


The  Unknown  Friend.  339 

Mouraki's  sneers  and  jocularity  had  no  power 
in  themselves  to  anger  me.  Indeed  I  felt  my- 
self cool  and  calm,  ready  to  bandy  retorts  and 
banter  with  him.  But  there  was  another  char- 
acteristic of  his  conversation  on  which  my  mind 
fastened,  finding  in  it  matter  for  thought ;  this 
was  his  barefaced  frankness.  Plainly  he  told  me 
that  he  had  employed  Constantine  to  assassinate 
me,  plainly  he  exposed  to  me  the  trick  by  which 
he  had  obtained  a  handle  against  me.  Now  to 
whom,  if  to  any  one,  does  a  man  like  Mouraki 
Pasha  reveal  such  things  as  these  ?  Why  to 
men — and  only  to  men — who  will  tell  no  tales. 
And  there  is  a  proverb  which  hints  that  only 
one  class  of  men  tell  no  tales.  That  was  why 
I  attached  significance  to  the  Governor's  frank- 
ness. 

I  believe  the  man  followed  my  thoughts  with 
his  wonderfully  acute  intelligence  and  his  power 
of  penetrating  the  minds  of  others  ;  for  he  smiled 
again  as  he  said, — 

"  I  don't  mind  being  frank  with  you,  my  dear 
Wheatley.  I'm  sure  you  won't  use  the  little  ad- 
missions I  may  seem  to  make  against  me.  How 
grieved  you  must  be  for  your  poor  friend 
Kortes ! " 

"  We've  both  lost  a  friend  this  morning,  Pasha." 

"  Constantine  ?  Ah,  yes.  Still — he's  as  well 
where  he  is, — just  as  well  where  he  is." 


34°  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  He  won't  be  able  to  use  your  little  admissions 
either  ?  " 

"  How  you  catch  my  meaning,  my  dear  lord ! 
It's  pleasure  to  talk  to  you."  But  he  turned 
suddenly  from  me,  and  called  to  his  men.  Three 
came  up  at  once.  "  This  gentleman,"  he  said, 
indicating  me,  and  speaking  now  in  sharp,  au- 
thoritative tones,  "  is  in  your  custody  for  the 
present.  Don't  let  him  move." 

I  seated'myself  on  a  rock  ;  the  three  men  stood 
round  me.  The  Pasha  bowed  slightly,  walked 
down  to  where  Phroso  sat,  and  began  to  speak 
with  her.  So  at  least  I  supposed,  but  I  did  not 
hear  anything  that  he  said  ;  his  back  was  towards 
me,  and  he  hid  Phroso  from  my  view.  I  took 
out  my  flask  and  had  a  pull  at  my  brandy-and- 
water ;  it  was  a  poor  breakfast,  but  I  was  offered 
no  other. 

Up  to  this  time  the  fourth  soldier  and  Demetri 
had  remained  in  the  boat.  They  now  landed 
and  hauled  their  boat  up  on  to  the  beach ;  then 
they  turned  to  the  smaller  boat  which  the  Pasha 
had  provided  in  malicious  sport  for  our  more 
complete  mortification.  The  soldier  laid  hold  of 
its  stern  and  prepared  to  haul  it  also  out  of  the 
water ;  but  Demetri  said  something — what,  I 
could  not  hear — and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
The  soldier  nodded  in  apparent  assent,  and  they 
left  the  boat  where  it  was,  merely  attaching  it  by 


The  Unknown  Friend.  341 

a  rope  to  the  other.  Then  they  walked  to  the 
rocks  and  sat  down  at  a  little  distance  from  where 
I  was,  Demetri  taking  a  hunch  of  bread  and  a 
large  knife  from  his  pocket  and  beginning  to  cut 
and  munch.  I  looked  at  him,  but  he  refused  to 
meet  my  eye  and  glanced  in  every  direction  ex- 
cept at  me. 

Suddenly,  while  I  was  idly  regarding  Demetri, 
the  three  fellows  sprang  on  me.  One  had  me  by 
each  arm  before  I  could  so  much  as  move.  The 
third  dashed  his  hand  into  the  breast-pocket  of 
my  coat  and  seized  my  revolver.  They  leaped 
away  again,  caught  up  the  rifles  they  had 
dropped,  and  held  them  levelled  towards  me. 
The  thing  was  done  in  a  moment,  I  sitting  like  a 
man  paralysed.  Then  one  of  the  ruffians  cried, — 

"  Your  Excellency,  the  gentleman  moved  his 
hand  to  his  pocket, — to  his  pistol." 

"What?"  asked  Mouraki,  turning  round. 
"  Moved  his  hand  to  a  pistol  ?  Had  he  a  pistol  ?  " 

My  revolver  was  held  up  as  damning  evidence. 

"  And  he  tried  to  use  it  ?  "  asked  Mouraki  in 
mournful,  shocked  tones.  . 

"  It  looked  like  it,"  said  the  fellow. 

"  It's  a  lie.  I  wasn't  thinking  of  it,"  said  I. 
I  was  exasperated  at  the  trick.  I  had  made  up 
my  mind  to  fight  it  out  sooner  than  give  up  the 
revolver. 

"  I'm  afraid  it   may  have  been   so,"  said  Mou- 


342  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

raki,  shaking  his  head.  "  Give  the  pistol  to  me, 
my  man.  I'll  keep  it  safe."  His  eye  shot  tri- 
umph at  me  as  he  took  my  revolver  and  turned 
again  to  Phroso.  I  was  now  powerless  indeed. 

Demetri  finished  his  hunch  of  bread,  and  be- 
gan to  clean  his  knife,  polishing  its  blade  leisurely 
and  lovingly  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and  feeling 
its  point  with  the  end  of  his  thumb.  During  this 
operation  he  hummed  softly  and  contentedly  to 
himself.  I  could  not  help  smiling  when  I  recog- 
nised the  tune ;  it  was  an  old  friend,  the  chant  that 
One-eyed  Alexander  wrote  on  the  death  of  Stefan 
Stefanopoulos  two  hundred  years  ago.  Demetri 
polished,  and  Demetri  hummed,  and  Demetri 
looked  away  across  the  blue  water  with  a  specu- 
lative eye.  I  did  not  choose  to  consider  what 
might  be  in  the  mind  of  Demetri  as  he  hummed 
and  polished  and  gazed  over  the  sea  that  girt  his 
native  island.  Demetri's  thoughts  were  his  own. 
Let  Mouraki  look  to  them,  if  they  were  worth  his 
care. 

There,  I  have  made  that  confession  as  plainly 
as  I  mean  to  make  it.  I  put  out  of  my  mind 
what  Demetri  might  be  planning  as  he  polished 
his  knife  and  hummed  One-eyed  Alexander's 
chant. 

Apparently  Mouraki  did  not  think  the  matter 
worth  his  care.  He  had  approached  very  near 
to  Phroso  now,  leaning  down  towards  her  as  she 


The  Unknown  Friend.  343 

sat  on  the  rock.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  low  cry  of 
terror  and  "  No,  no "  in  horrified  accents ;  but 
Mouraki,  raising  his  voice  a  little,  answered, 
"  Yes,  yes." 

I  strained  my  ears  to  hear;  nay,  I  half  rose 
from  where  I  sat,  and  sank  back  only  under  the 
pointed  hint  of  a  soldier's  bayonet.  I  could  not 
hear  the  words,  but  a  soft,  pleading  murmur 
came  from  Phroso,  a  short,  relentless  laugh  from 
Mouraki,  a  silence,  a  shrug  of  Mouraki's  shoul- 
ders. Then  he  turned  and  came  across  to  me. 

"  Stand  back  a  little,"  said  he  to  the  soldiers, 
"  but  keep  your  eyes  on  your  prisoner,  and  if  he 
attempts  any  movement He  did  not  fin- 
ish the  sentence,  which  indeed  was  plain  enough 
without  a  formal  ending.  Then  he  began  to 
speak  to  me  in  French. 

"A  beautiful  thing,  my  dear  lord,"  said  he, 
"  is  the  devotion  of  women.  Fortunate  are  you 
who  have  found  two  ladies  to  love  you  !  " 

"  You've  been  married  twice  yourself,  I  think 
you  told  me?  " 

"  It's  not  exactly  the  same  thing — not  neces- 
sarily. I  am  very  likely  to  be  married  a  third 
time,  but  I  fear  I  should  flatter  myself  if  I 
thought  that  much  love  would  accompany  the 
lady's  hand.  However  it  was  of  you  that  I  de- 
sired to  speak.  This  lady  here,  my  dear  lord,  is 
so  attached  to  you  that  I  believe  she  will  marry 


344  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

me,  purely  to  ensure  your  safety.  Isn't  it  a  touch- 
ing sacrifice  ?  " 

"  I  hope  she'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  it's  little  more  than  a  polite  fiction,"  he 
conceded.  "  For  she'll  be  compelled  to  marry 
me  anyhow.  But  it's  the  sort  of  idea  that  com- 
forts a  woman." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  on  me  as  he  made  this  re- 
mark, enjoying  the  study  of  its  effect  on  me. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  never  meant  to  marry  her. 
I'm  bound,  you  know.  It  was  only  another  polite 
fiction  designed  to  annoy  you,  my  dear  Pasha." 

"  Ah,  is  that  so  ?  Now,  really  that's  amusing," 
— and  he  chuckled.  He  did  not  appear  annoyed 
at  having  been  deceived.  I  wondered  a  little  at 
that — then. 

"  We  have  really,"  he  continued,  "  been  living 
in  an  atmosphere  of  polite  fictions.  For  ex- 
ample, Lord  Wheatley,  there  was  a  polite  fiction 
that  I  was  grieved  at  Constantine's  escape." 

"  And  another  that  you  were  anxious  to  re- 
capture him." 

"And  a  third  that  you  were  not  anxious  to 
escape  from  my hospitality." 

"And  a  fourth  that  you  were  so  solicitous  for 
my  friends'  enjoyment  that  you  exerted  yourself 
to  find  them  good  fishing." 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes,"  he  laughed.  "  And  there  is  to 
be  one  more  polite  fiction,  my  dear  lord." 


The  Unknown  Friend.  345 

"  I  believe  I  can  guess  it,"  said  I,  meeting  his  eye. 

"  You  are  always  so  acute,"  he  observed  admir- 
ingly. 

"Though  the  precise  form  of  it  I  confess  I 
don't  understand. 

"  Well,  our  lamented  Constantine,  who  had 
much  experience,  but  rather  wanted  imagination, 
was  in  favour  of  a  fever.  He  told  me  that  it  was 
the  usual  device  in  Neopalia." 

"  His  wife  died  of  it,  I  suppose?"  I  believe 
I  smiled  as  I  put  the  question.  Great  as  my 
peril  was,  I  still  found  a  pleasure  in  fencing  with 
the  Pasha. 

"  Oh,  no.  Now,  that's  unworthy  of  you. 
Never  have  a  fiction  when  the  truth  will  serve  ! 
Since  he's  dead,  he  murdered  his  wife.  If  he  had 
lived,  of  course " 

"  Ah,  then  it  would  have  been  fever." 

"  Precisely.  We  must  adapt  ourselves  to  cir- 
cumstances ;  that  is  the  part  of  wise  men.  Now 

in  your  case "  He  bent  down  and  looked 

hard  in  my  face. 

"  In  my  case,"  said  I,  "  you  can  call  it  what 
you  like,  Pasha." 

"  Don't  you  think  that  the  outraged  patriotism 

of  Neopalia ? "  he  suggested  with  a  smile. 

"You  bought  the  island you,  a  stranger!  It 

was  very  rash.  These  islanders  are  desperate 
fellows." 


346  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  That  would  have  served  with  Constantine 
alive,  but  he's  dead.  Your  patriot  is  gone, 
Pasha." 

"Alas,  yes,  our  good  Constantine  is  dead. 
But  there  are  others.  There's  a  fellow  whom  I 
ought  to  hang." 

"Ah?"  My  eyes  wandered  towards  where 
Demetri  hummed  and  polished. 

"  And  has  certainly  not  earned  his  life  merely 
by  bringing  me  to  meet  you  this  morning,  though 
I  give  him  some  credit  for  that." 

"  Demetri?  "  I  asked  with  a  careless  air. 

"  Well,  yes,  Demetri,"  smiled  the  Pasha. 
"  Demetri  is  very  open  to  reason." 

Across  the  current  of  our  talk  came  Demetri's 
soft,  happy  humming.  The  Pasha  heard  it. 

"  I  hanged  his  brother  three  years  ago,"  he 
observed. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  said  I.  "  You  seem  to  have 
done  some  characteristic  things  three  years  ago." 

"And  he  went  to  the  gallows  humming  that 
tune.  You  know  it  ?  " 

"  Very  well  indeed,  Pasha.  It  was  one  of  the 
first  things  I  heard  in  Neopalia :  it's  going  to  be 
one  of  the  last,  perhaps." 

"  That  tune  lends  a  great  plausibility  to  my 
little  fiction,"  said  Mouraki. 

"  It  will  no  doubt  be  a  very  valuable  confirma- 
tion of  it,"  I  rejoined. 


The  Unknown  Friend.  347 

The  Pasha  made  no  further  remark  for  a  mo- 
ment. I  looked  past  him  and  past  the  four  sol- 
diers— for  the  last  had  now  joined  his  comrades 
— to  Phroso.  She  was  leaning  against  the  cliff- 
side  ;  her  head  was  thrown  back  and  her  face  up- 
turned, but  her  eyes  were  closed.  I  think;  she 
had  swooned  or  at  least  sunk  into  a  half-uncon- 
scious state.  Mouraki  detected  my  glance. 

"  Look  at  her  well,  use  your  time,"  he  said  in 
a  savage  tone.  "  You've  not  long  to  enjoy  the 
sight  of  her." 

"  I  have  as  long  as  it  may  happen  to  please 
God,"  said  I.  "  Neither  you  nor  I  know  how 
long." 

"  I  can  make  a  guess,"  observed  Mouraki,  a 
quiet  smile  succeeding  his  frown. 

"  Yes,  you  can  make  a  guess." 

He  stood  looking  at  me  a  moment  longer. 
Then  he  turned  away :  as  he  passed  the  soldiers 
he  spoke  to  them.  I  saw  them  smile.  No  doubt 
he  had  picked  his  men  for  this  job  and  could 
rely  on  them. 

The  little  bay  in  which  we  were  was  sur- 
rounded by  steep  and  precipitous  cliffs  except  in 
one  place.  Here  there  was  a  narrow  cleft ;  the 
rocks  did  not  rise  abruptly  ;  the  ground  sloped 
gradually  upwards  as  it  receded  from  the  beach. 
Just  on  this  spot  of  gently  rising  ground  Demetri 
sat,  and  the  Pasha,  having  amused  himself  with 


348  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

me  for  as  long  as  it  pleased  him,  walked  up  to 
Demetri.  The  fellow  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
saluted  Mouraki  with  great  respect.  Mouraki 
beckoned  to  him  to  come  nearer,  and  began  to 
speak  to  him. 

I  sat  still  where  I  was,  under  the  bayonets  of 
the  soldiers,  who  faced  me  and  had  their  backs  to 
their  commander.  My  eyes  were  fixed  steadily 
on  the  pair  who  stood  conferring  on  the  slope ; 
and  my  mind  was  in  a  ferment.  Scruples  troubled 
me  no  more ;  Mouraki  himself  had  made  them 
absurd.  I  read  my  only  chance  of  life  in  the 
choice  or  caprice  of  the  wild,  passionate  barbarian 
— he  was  little  else — who  stood  with  head  meekly 
bowed  and  knife  carelessly  dangled  in  his  hand. 
This  man  was  he  of  whom  Panayiotahad  spoken 
so  mysteriously ;  he  was  the  friend  whom  I  had 
"more  than  I  knew  of;"  in  his  blood-feud  with 
the  Pasha,  in  his  revengeful  wrath,  lay  my  chance. 
It  was  only  a  chance  indeed,  for  the  soldiers 
might  kill  me.  But  it  was  a  chance,  and  there 
was  no  other.  For  if  Mouraki  won  him  over  by 
promises  or  bribes,  or  intimidated  him  into  doing 
his  will,  then  Demetri  would  take  the  easier  task, 
— that  which  carried  no  risk  and  did  not  involve 
his  own  death,  as  an  attack  on  the  Pasha  almost 
certainly  would.  Would  he  be  prudent  and  turn 
his  hand  against  the  single  helpless  man  ?  Or 
would  his  long-nursed  rage  stifle  all  care  for  him- 


The  Unknown  Friend.  349 

self  and  drive  him  against  Mouraki  ?  If  so,  if  he 
chose  that  way,  there  was  a  glimmer  of  hope.  I 
glanced  at  Phroso's  motionless  figure  and  pallid 
face :  I  glanced  at  the  little  boat  that  floated  on 
the  water  (why  had  Demetri  not  beached  it  ?)  ;  I 
glanced  at  the  rope  which  bound  it  to  the  other 
boat :  I  measured  the  distance  between  the  boats 
and  myself ;  I  thrust  my  hand  into  the  pocket  of 
my  coat  and  contrived  to  open  the  blade  of  my 
clasp-knife,  which  was  now  the  only  weapon  left 
to  me. 

Mouraki  spoke  and  smiled  ;  he  made  no  ges- 
ture, but  there  was  just  a  movement  of  his  eyes 
towards  me ;  Demetri's  eyes  followed  his  for  an 
instant,  but  would  not  dwell  on  my  face.  The 
Pasha  spoke  again  ;  Demetri  shook  his  head,  and 
Mouraki's  face  assumed  a  persuasive,  good-hu- 
moured expression  ;  Demetri  glanced  round  appre- 
hensively. The  Pasha  took  him  by  the  arm  and 
they  went  a  few  paces  further  up  the  slope,  so  as 
to  be  more  private  in  their  talk  :  but  was  that  the 
object  with  both  of  them?  Still  Demetri  shook 
his  head.  The  Pasha's  smile  vanished,  his  mouth 
grew  stern,  his  eyes  cold,  and  he  frowned.  He 
spoke  in  short,  sharp  sentences,  the  snap  of  his 
lips  showing  when  his  mind  was  spoken.  Deme- 
tri seemed  to  plead,  he  looked  uneasy,  he  shifted 
from  foot  to  foot,  he  drew  back  from  the  imperi- 
ous man,  as  though  he  shunned  him  and  would 


350  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

fain  escape  from  him.  Mouraki  would  not  let 
him  go,  but  followed  him  in  his  retreat,  step  for 
step ;  thus  another  ten  yards  were  put  between 
them  and  me.  Anger  and  contempt  blazed  now 
on  Mouraki's  face1;  he  raised  his  hand  and  brought 
it  down  clenched  on  the  palm  of  the  other. 
Demetri  held  out  his  hand  as  though  in  protest 
or  supplication.  The  Pasha  stamped  with  his 
foot.  There  were  no  signs  of  relenting  in  his 
manner. 

My  eyes  grew  weary  with  intent  watching :  I 
felt  like  a  man  who  has  been  staring  at  a  bright 
white  light,  too  fascinated  by  its  intensity  to 
blink  or  turn  away,  even  though  it  pains  him  to 
look  longer.  The  figures  of  the  two  seemed  to 
become  indistinct  and  blurred.  I  rubbed  my 
knuckles  into  my  eyes  to  clear  my  vision,  and 
looked  again.  Yes,  they  were  a  little  farther  off, 
even  still  a  little  farther  off  than  when  I  had 
looked  before.  It  could  not  be  by  chance  and 
unwittingly  that  Demetri  always  and  always  and 
always  gave  back  a  pace,  luring  the  Pasha  to 
follow  him.  No,  there  was  a  plan  in  his  head  :  and 
in  my  heart  suddenly  came  a  great  beat  of  savage 
joy — of  joy  at  the  chance  heaven  gave,  yes,  and 
of  lust  for  the  blood  of  the  man  against  whom  I 
had  so  mighty  a  debt  of  wrong.  And,  as  I  gazed 
now,  for  an  instant — a  single  barely  perceptible 
instant — came  the  swiftest  message  from  Deme- 


The  Unknown  Friend*  351 

tri's  eyes.  I  read  it ;  I  knew  its  meaning.  I  sat 
where  I  was,  but  every  muscle  of  my  body  was 
tense  and  strung  in  readiness  for  that  desperate 
leap,  and  every  nerve  of  me  quivered  with  a  re- 
pressed excitement  that  seemed  almost  to  kill. 
Now  !  Now  !  Was  it  now  ?  I  was  within  an  ace 
of  crying  "  Strike  !  "  But  I  held  the  word  in  and 
still  gazed.  And  the  soldiers  leaned  easily  on 
their  bayonets,  exchanging  a  word  or  two  now 
and  again,  yawning  sometimes,  weary  of  a  dull 
job,  wondering  when  his  Excellency  would  let 
them  get  home  again  ;  of  what  was  going  on  be- 
hind their  backs,  there  on  the  slope  of  the  cliff, 
they  took  no  heed. 

Ah,  there  was  a  change  now!  Demetri  had 
ceased  to  protest,  to  deprecate  and  to  retreat. 
Mouraki's  frowns  had  vanished,  he  smiled  again 
in  satisfaction  and  approval.  Demetri  threw  a 
glance  at  me.  Mouraki  spoke.  Demetri  an- 
swered. For  an  instant  I  looked  at  the  soldiers ; 
they  were  more  weary  and  inattentive  than  ever. 
Back  went  my  eyes ;  now  Mouraki,  with  suave 
graciousness,  in  condescending  recognition  of  a 
good  servant,  stepped  right  close  up  to  Demetri, 
and,  raising  his  hand,  reached  round  the  fellow's 
shoulder  and  patted  him  approvingly  on  the 
back. 

"  It  will  be  now  !  "  I  thought, — nay,  I  believe 
I  whispered, — and  I  drew  my  legs  up  under  me 


352  Phroso;  A  Romance. 

and   grasped   the  hidden   knife   in   my   pocket. 
"  Yes,  it  must  be  now !  " 

Mouraki  patted,  laughed,  evidently  praised  ; 
Demetri  bowed  his  head.  But  his  long,  lithe, 
bare,  brown  right  arm  that  had  hung  so  weary  a 
time  in  idle  waiting  by  his  side — the  arm  whose 
hand  held  the  great  bright  blade  so  lovingly 
polished,  so  carefully  tested — the  arm  began 
slowly  and  cautiously  to  crawl  up  his  side.  It 
bent  at  the  elbow,  it  rested  a  moment  after  its 
stealthy,  secret  climb.  Then,  quick  as  lightning, 
it  flew  above  Demetri's  head,  the  blade  sparkled 
in  the  sun,  the  hand  swooped  down,  and  the 
gleams  of  the  sunlit  steel  were  quenched  in  the 
body  of  Mouraki.  With  a  sudden  cry  of  amaze- 
ment, of  horror,  and  of  agony  the  Pasha  staggered 
and  fell  prone  on  the  rocky  ground.  And 
Demetri  cried,  "At  last,  my  God,  at  last !  "  and 
laughed  aloud. 


CHAPTER  XDC 
The  Armenian  Dog! 

THE  death-cry  that  Mouraki  Pasha  uttered 
under  Demetri's  avenging  knife  seemed  to  touch 
a  spring  and  set  us  all  a-moving.  The  sound  of  it 
turned  the  soldiers'  idle  lassitude  into  an  amazed 
wonder,  which  again  passed  in  an  instant  to  fierce 
excitement.  Phroso  leaped  with  a  shriek  to  her 
feet.  I  hurled  myself  across  the  space  between 
me  and  the  rope,  knife  in  hand.  The  soldiers, 
neglecting  their  unarmed  prisoner,  turned  with  a 
shout  of  rage  and  rushed  wildly  up  the  slope  to 
where  Demetri  stood,  holding  his  blade  towards 
heaven.  The  rope  parted  under  my  impetuous 
assualt :  Phroso  was  by  my  side  ;  in  an  instant 
we  were  in  the  boat ;  I  pushed  off  ;  I  seized  the 
sculls.  But  then  I  hesitated.  Was  this  man  my 
friend,  my  ally,  my  accomplice,  what  you  will  ? 
I  looked  up  the  slope.  Demetri  stood  by  the 
body  of  Mouraki  :  the  four  soldiers  rushed 
towards  him.  I  could  not  approve  his  deed  :  but 
I  had  suffered  it  to  be  done ;  I  must  not  run 
away  now.  I  pushed  the  sculls  into  Phroso's 


354  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

hands.  But  she  had  caught  my  purpose,  and 
threw  herself  upon  me,  twining  her  arms  about 
me  and  crying,  "  No,  no,  my  lord  !  My  lord,  no, 
no !  "  Her  love  gave  her  strength  ;  for  a  mo- 
ment I  could  not  disengage  myself,  but  stood 
fast  bound  in  her  embrace. 

The  moment  was  enough :  it  was  the  end,  the 
end  of  that  brief  fierce  drama  on  the  rocky  slope, 
the  end  of  any  power  I  might  have  had  to  aid 
Demetri.  For  he  did  not  try  to  defend  himself. 
He  stood  still  as  a  statue  where  he  was,  holding 
the  knife  up  to  heaven,  the  smile  which  his  loud 
laugh  left  still  on  his  lips.  Phroso's  head  sank 
on  my  shoulder:  she  would  not  look.  But  the 
sight  drew  my  eyes  with  an  irresistible  attraction. 
The  bayonets  flashed  in  the  air  and  buried  them- 
selves in  Demetri's  body.  He  sank  with  a  groan. 
Again  the  blades,  drawn  back,  were  driven  into 
him,  and  again,  and  again.  He  was  a  mangled 
corpse,  but  in  hot  revenge  for  their  leader  they 
thrust  and  thrust.  It  turned  me  sick  to  look; 
yet  I  looked  till  at  last  they  ceased,  and  stood 
for  an  instant  over  the  two  bodies,  regarding 
them.  Then  I  loosed  Phroso's  arms  off  me ;  she 
sank  back  in  the  stern  ;  again  I  took  the  sculls, 
and  laid  to  with  a  will.  Where  we  were  to  go,  or 
what  help  we  could  look  for,  I  did  not  know ; 
but  a  fever  to  be  away  from  the  place  had  come 
on  me,  and  I  pulled,  thinking  less  of  life  and 


The  Armenian  Dog!  355 

safety  than  of  putting  distance  between  me  and 
that  hideous  scene. 

"They  don't  move,"  whispered  Phroso,  whose 
eyes  were  now  turned  away  from  me  and  fixed 
on  the  beach.  "  They  stand  still.  Row,  my 
lord,  row !  " 

A  moment  passed.  I  pulled  with  all  my 
strength.  She  was  between  me  and  the  land ;  I 
could  see  nothing.  Her  voice  came  again,  low 
but  urgent, — 

"  Now  they  move,  they're  coming  down  to  the 
shore.  Ah,  my  lord,  they're  taking  aim  !  " 

"  God  help  us,"  said  I  between  my  teeth. 
"  Crouch  in  the  boat.  Low  down,  get  right 
down.  Lower  down,  Phroso,  lower  down !  " 

"  Ah,  one  has  knocked  up  the  barrels  !  They're 
talking  again.  Why  don't  they  fire  ?  " 

"  Do  they  look  like  hesitating  ?  " 

"Yes.  No;  they're  aiming  again.  No  ;  they've 
stopped.  Row,  my  lord,  row  !  " 

I  was  pulling  as  I  had  not  pulled  since  I  rowed 
in  my  college  boat  at  Oxford  nine  years  before. 
I  thought  of  the  race  at  that  moment  with  a  sort 
of  amusement.  But  all  the  while  Phroso  kept 
watch  for  me ;  by  design  or  chance  she  did  not 
move  from  between  me  and  the  shore. 

"  They're  running  to  the  boat  now.  They're 
getting  in.  Are  they  coming  after  us,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Heaven  knows  !  I  suppose  so." 


356  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  was  wondering  why  they  had  not  used  their 
rifles:  they  had  evidently  thought  of  firing  at 
first,  but  something  had  held  their  hands.  Per- 
haps they — mere  humble  soldiers — shrank  from 
the  responsibility ;  their  leader,  whose  protec- 
tion would  have  held  them  harmless  and  whose 
favour  rewarded  them,  lay  dead.  They  might 
well  hesitate  to  fire  on  a  man  whom  they  knew 
to  be  a  person  of  some  position  and  who  had 
taken  no  part  in  Mouraki's  death. 

"  They're  launching  the  boat.  They're  in 
now,"  came  in  Phroso's  breathless  whisper. 

"  How  far  off  are  we  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  two  hundred  yards  perhaps. 
They've  started  now." 

"  Do  they  move  well  ?  " 

"Yes,  they're  rowing  hard.  Oh,  my  dear  lord, 
can  you  row  harder?  "  She  turned  to  me  for  an 
instant,  clasping  her  hands  in  entreaty. 

"  No,  I  can't,  Phroso,"  said  I,  and  I  believe  I 
smiled.  Did  the  dear  girl  think  I  should  choose 
that  moment  for  paddling  ? 

"  They're  gaining,"  she  cried.  "  Oh,  they're 
gaining!  On,  my  lord,  on  !  " 

"  How  many  are  rowing?  " 

"Three,  my  lord,  each  with  two  oars." 

"  Oh,  the  deuce  !     It's  no  good,  Phroso  !  " 

"  No  good,  my  lord  ?     But  if  they  catch  us?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could  answer  you.     How  near  now  ?  " 


The  Armenian  Dog!  357 

"  Half  as  near  as  they  were  before." 

"  Look  round  the  sea.  Are  there  any  boats 
anywhere?  Look  all  round." 

"There's  nothing  anywhere,  my  lord." 

"  Then  the  game's  up,"  said  I ;  and  I  rested  on 
my  oars  and  began  to  pant.  I  was  not  in  train- 
ing for  a  race. 

The  boat  containing  the  soldiers  drew  near. 
Our  boat,  now  motionless,  awaited  their  coming. 
Phroso  sank  on  the  seat  and  sat  with  a  despair- 
ing look  in  her  eyes.  But  my  mood  was  not  the 
same.  Mouraki  was  dead  ;  I  knew  the  change 
his  death  made  was  great.  Mouraki  was  dead  ; 
I  did  not  believe  that  there  was  another  man  in 
Neopalia  who  would  dare  to  take  any  extreme 
step  against  me.  For  why  had  they  not  fired? 
They  did  not  fire  now,  when  they  could  have 
shot  me  through  the  head  without  difficulty  and 
without  danger. 

Their  boat  came  alongside  of  ours.  I  leaned 
forward  and  touched  Phroso's  hand  ;  she  looked 
up. 

"  Courage,"  said  I.  "  The  braver  we  look,  the 
better  we  shall  come  off."  Then  I  turned  to  the 
pursuers  and  regarded  them  steadily,  waiting  for 
them  to  speak.  The  first  communication  was  in 
dumb  show.  The  man  who  was  steering — he 
appeared  to  be  a  subordinate  officer — covered 
me  with  his  barrel. 


358  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"I'm  absolutely  unarmed,"  I  said.  "You 
know  that.  You  took  my  revolver  away  from 
me." 

"You're  trying  to  escape,"  said  he,  not  shift- 
ing his  aim. 

"  Where's  your  warrant  for  stopping  me  ?  "  I 
demanded. 

"  The  Pasha " 

"  The  Pasha's  dead.  Be  careful  what  you  do. 
I  am  an  Englishman,  and  in  my  country  I  am  as 
great  a  man  as  your  Pasha  was."  This  assertion 
perhaps  was  on,  or  beyond,  the  confines  of  strict 
truth  :  it  had  considerable  effect,  however. 

"  You  were  our  prisoner,  my  lord,"  said  the 
officer  more  civilly.  "  We  cannot  allow  you  to 
escape.  And  this  lady  was  a  prisoner  also.  She 
is  not  English,  she  is  of  the  island.  And  one  of 
the  islanders  has  slain  the  Pasha.  She  must  an- 
swer for  it." 

"  What  can  she  have  had  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  It  may  have  been  planned  between  her  and 
the  assassin." 

"  Oh,  and  between  me  and  the  assassin  too, 
perhaps." 

"  Perhaps,  my  lord.  It  is  not  my  place  to  in- 
quire into  that." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  with  an  appearance 
of  mingled  carelessness  and  impatience. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  of  us  ?  "  I  asked. 


The  Armenian  Dog;!  359 

"  You  must  accompany  us  back  to  Neopalia." 

"  Well,  where  did  you  suppose  I  was  going? 
Is  this  a  boat  to  go  for  a  voyage  in  ?  Can  I  row 
a  hundred  miles  to  Rhodes?  Come,  you're  a 
silly  fellow !  " 

He  was  rather  embarrassed  by  my  tone ;  he 
did  not  know  whether  to  believe  in  my  sincerity 
or  not.  Phroso  caught  the  cue  well  enough  to 
keep  her  tongue  between  her  pretty  lips,  and  her 
lids  low  over  her  wondering  eyes. 

"  But,"  I  pursued,  in  a  tone  of  ironical  remon- 
strance, "  are  you  going  to  leave  the  Pasha  there? 
The  other  is  a  rogue  and  a  murderer  "  (it  rather 
went  to  my  heart  to  describe  the  useful,  if  un- 
scrupulous, Demetri  in  these  terms) ;  "  let  him 
be.  But  does  it  suit  the  dignity  of  Mouraki 
Pasha  to  lie  untended  on  the  shore,  while  his 
men  row  off  to  the  harbour?  It  will  look  as 
though  you  had  loved  him  little.  You — four  of 
you ! — allow  one  man  to  kill  him,  and  then  you 
leave  his  body  as  if  it  were  the  body  of  a  dog  !  " 

I  had  no  definite  reason  for  wishing  them  to 
return  and  take  up  Mouraki's  body :  but  every 
moment  gained  was  something.  Neopalia  had 
bred  in  me  a  constant  hope  of  new  chances,  of 
fresh  turns,  of  a  smile  from  fortune,  following 
quick  on  a  frown.  So  I  urged  on  them  anything 
which  would  give  a  respite.  My  appeal  was  not 
wasted ;  the  officer  held  a  hurried  whispered 


360  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

consultation  with  the  soldier  who  sat  on  the 
seat  next  to  him.  Then  he  said, — 

"  It  is  true,  my  lord.  It  is  more  fitting  that 
we  should  carry  the  body  back ;  but  you  must 
return  with  us." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  I,  taking  up  my 
sculls  with  alacrity. 

The  officer  responded  to  this  move  of  mine  by 
laying  his  rifle  in  readiness  across  his  knees:  both 
boats  turned,  and  we  set  out  again  for  the  beach. 
As  soon  as  we  reached  it  three  of  them  went  up 
the  slope.  I  saw  them  kick  Demetri's  body  out 
of  the  way ;  for  he  had  fallen  so  that  his  arm 
was  over  the  breast  of  his  victim.  Then  they 
raised  Mouraki  and  began  to  carry  him  down. 
Phroso  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  My  eyes  were 
on  Mouraki's  face  ;  I  watched  him  carried  down 
to  the  boat,  meditating  on  the  strange  toss-up 
which  had  allotted  to  him  the  fate  which  he  had 
with  such  ruthless  cunning  prepared  for  me. 
Suddenly  I  sprang  up,  leaped  out  of  the  boat, 
and  began  to  walk  up  the  slope.  I  passed  the 
soldiers  who  bore  Mouraki.  They  paused  in 
surprise  and  uneasiness.  I  walked  briskly  by, 
taking  no  notice  of  them,  and  came  where  De- 
metri's body  lay.  I  knelt  for  a  moment  by  him 
and  closed  his  eyes  with  my  hand.  Then  I  took 
off  the  silk  scarf  I  was  wearing  and  spread  it 
over  his  face :  and  I  rose  to  my  feet  again. 


The  Armenian  Dog!  361 

Somehow  I  felt  that  I  owed  to  Demetri  some  such 
small  office  of  friendship  as  this  that  I  was  pay- 
ing :  and  I  found  myself  hoping  that  there  had 
been  good  in  the  man,  and  that  He  who  sees  all 
of  the  heart  would  see  good  even  in  the  wild, 
desperate  soul  of  Demetri  of  Neopalia.  So  I  ar- 
ranged the  scarf  carefully,  and,  turning,  walked 
down  the  slope  to  the  boats  again,  glad  to  be 
able  to  tell  the  girl  Panayiota  that  somebody  had 
closed  her  lover's  eyes.  Thus  I  left  the  friend 
that  I  knew  not  of.  Looking  into  my  own  heart, 
I  did  not  judge  him  harshly  ;  I  had  let  the  thing 
be  done. 

When  I  reached  the  beach,  the  soldiers  were 
about  to  lay  Mouraki's  body  in  the  larger  of  the 
two  boats.  But  having  nothing  to  cover  his 
body  with,  they  proceeded  to  remove  his  un- 
dress frock  coat  and  left  it  lying  for  an  instant 
on  the  shingle  while  they  lifted  him  in.  Seeing 
that  they  were  ready,  I  picked  up  the  coat  and 
handed  it  to  them.  They  took  it  and  arranged 
it  over  the  trunk  and  head.  Two  of  them  got 
into  the  boat  in  which  Phroso  sat,  and  signed 
to  me  to  jump  in.  I  was  about  to  obey,  when  I 
perceived  a  pocket-book  lying  on  the  shingle :  it 
was  not  mine  :  neither  Demetri  nor  any  of  the 
soldiers  was  likely  to  carry  a  handsome  morocco- 
leather  case :  it  must  have  belonged  to  Mouraki 
and  have  fallen  from  his  coat  as  I  lifted  it.  It 


362  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

lay  opened  now,  face  upwards.  I  stooped  for 
it,  intending  to  give  it  to  the  officer.  But  an  in- 
stant later  it  was  in  my  pocket ;  and  I,  under 
the  screen  of  a  most  innocent  expression,  was 
covertly  watching  my  guards,  to  see  whether 
they  had  detected  my  action.  The  two  who 
rowed  Mouraki  had  already  started;  the  others 
had  been  taking  their  seats  in  the  boat  and  had 
not  perceived  the  swift  motion  with  which  I 
picked  up  the  book.  I  walked  past  them  and  sat 
down  behind  them  in  the  bows.  Phroso  was  in 
the  stern.  One  of  them  asked  her,  with  a  consid- 
erable show  of  respect,  if  she  would  steer.  She 
assented  with  a  nod.  I  crouched  down  low  in 
the  bows  behind  the  backs  of  the  soldiers  :  there 
I  took  out  Mouraki's  pocket-book  and  opened  it. 
My  action  seemed,  no  doubt,  not  far  removed 
from  theft.  But  as  the  book  lay  open  on  the 
shore,  I  had  seen  in  it  something  which  belonged 
to  me, — something  which  was  inalienably  mine, 
of  which  no  schemes  or  violence  could  deprive 
me  :  this  was  nothing  else  than  my  name. 

Very  quietly  and  stealthily  I  drew  out  a  slip 
of  paper ;  behind  that  was  another  slip,  and  again 
a  third.  They  were  cuttings  from  a  Greek  news- 
paper ;  neither  the  name  of  the  paper,  nor  the 
dates,  nor  the  place  of  publication,  appeared : 
the  extracts  were  merely  three  short  paragraphs. 
My  name  headed  each  of  them.  I  had  not  been 


The  Armenian  Dog!  363 

aware  that  any  chronicle  of  my  somewhat  unex- 
pected fortunes  had  reached  the  outer  world  ; 
and  I  set  myself  to  read  with  much  interest. 
Great  men  may  become  indifferent  as  to  what 
the  papers  say  about  them  :  I  had  never  attained 
to  this  exalted  state  of  mind. 

"  Let's  have  a  look,"  said  I  to  myself,  after  a 
cautious  glance  over  my  shoulder  at  the  other 
boat,  which  was  several  yards  ahead. 

The  first  paragraph  ran  thus  : 

"  We  regret  to  hear  that  Lord  Wheatley,  the  English 
nobleman  who  has  recently  purchased  the  island  of  Neopalia 
and  taken  up  his  residence  there,  is  suffering  from  a  severe 
attack  of  the  fever  which  is  at  the  present  time  prevalent  in 
the  island." 

"  Now  that's  very  curious,"  I  thought.  For  I 
had  never  enjoyed  better  health  than  during  my 
sojourn  in  Neopalia.  I  turned  with  increased  in- 
terest to  the  second  cutting.  I  wanted  to  see 
what  progress  I  had  made  in  my  serious  sickness : 
naturally  I  was  interested. 

"  We  greatly  regret  to  announce  that  Lord  Wheatley's 
condition  is  critical.  The  fever  has  abated,  but  the  patient 
is  extremely  prostrate." 

"  It  would  be  even  more  interesting  if  one  had 
the  dates,"  thought  I. 


364  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

The  last  paragraph  was  extremely  brief. 

"  Lord  Wheatley  died  at  seven  o'clock  yesterday  morn- 
ing." 

I  lay  back  in  the  bows  of  the  boat,  holding 
these  remarkable  little  slips  of  paper  in  my  hand. 
They  gave  occasion  for  some  thought.  Then  I 
replaced  them  in  the  pocket-book :  and  I  had,  I 
regret  to  say,  the  curiosity  to  explore  further.  I 
lifted  the  outer  flap  of  leather  and  looked  in  the 
inner  compartment.  It  held  only  a  single  piece 
of  paper.  On  the  paper  were  four  or  five  lines, 
not  in  print  this  time,  but  in  handwriting ;  and 
the  handwriting  looked  very  much  like  what  I 
had  seen  over  Mouraki's  name. 

"  Report  of  Lord  Wheatley's  death  unfounded.  Reason 
to  suspect  intended  foul  play  on  the  part  of  the  islanders. 
The  Governor  is  making  inquiries.  Lord  Wheatley  is  care- 
fully guarded,  as  attempts  on  his  life  are  feared.  Feeling  in 
the  island  is  much  exasperated,  the  sale  to  Lord  Wheatley 
being  very  unpopular. 

"There's  another  compartment  yet,"  said  I  to 
myself,  and  I  turned  to  it  eagerly  Alas,  I  was 
disappointed  !  There  was  a  sheet  of  paper  in  it, 
but  the  paper  was  a  blank.  Yet  I  looked  at  the 
blank  piece  of  paper  with  even  greater  interest : 
for  I  had  little  doubt  that  it  had  been  intended 
to  carry  another  message, — a  message  which  was 


The  Armenian  Dog!  365 

true  and  no  lie, — which  was  to  have  been  written 
this  very  morning  by  the  dagger  of  Demetri. 
Something  like  this  it  would  have  run,  would  it 
not,  in  the  terse  style  of  my  friend  Mouraki 
Pasha  ? 

"  Lord  Wheatley  assassinated  this  morning.  Assassin 
killed  by  Governor's  guards.  Governor  is  taking  severe 
measures." 

Mouraki,  Mouraki !  in  your  life  you  lived  irony, 
and  in  your  death  you  were  not  divided  from 
it.  For,  while  you  lay  a  corpse  in  the  stern  of 
your  boat,  I  lived  to  read  those  unwritten  words 
on  the  blank  paper  in  your  pocketbook.  At  first 
Constantine  had  killed  me — so  I  interpreted  the 
matter — by  fever  ;  but  later  on  that  story  would 
not  serve,  since  Denny  and  Hogvardt  and  faith- 
ful Watkins  knew  that  it  was  a  lie.  Therefore 
the  lie  was  declared  a  lie  :  and  you  set  yourself  to 
prove  again  that  truth  is  better  than  a  lie — espe- 
cially when  a  man  can  manufacture  it  to  his  own 
order.  Yet,  surely,  Mouraki,  if  you  can  look 
now  into  this  world,  your  smile  will  be  a  wry 
one !  For,  cunning  as  you  were  and  full  of 
twists,  more  cunning  still  and  richer  in  expedients 
is  the  thing  called  fate ;  and  the  dagger  of 
Demetri  wrote  another  message  to  fill  the  blank 
sheet  that  your  provident  note-book  carried  ! 

Thinking  thus,  I   put  the  book  in  my  pocket, 


366  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

and  looked  round  with  a  smile  on  my  lips.  I 
wished  the  man  were  alive,  that  I  might  mock 
him;  I  grudged  him  the  sudden  death  which 
fenced  him  from  my  triumphant  raillery. 

Suddenly,  there  in  the  bows  of  the  boat,  I 
laughed  aloud,  so  that  the  soldiers  turned  startled 
faces  over  their  shoulders,  and  Phroso  looked  at 
me  in  wonder. 

"  It's  nothing,"  said  I.  "  Since  I'm  alive  I 
may  laugh,  I  suppose  ?  "  Mouraki  Pasha  was  not 

alive. 

My  reading  and  my  meditation  had  passed  the 

time.  Now  we  were  round  the  point  which  had 
lain  between  us  and  the  harbour,  and  were  head- 
ing straight  for  the  gunboat  that  was  anchored 
just  across  the  head  of  the  jetty.  Phroso's  eyes 
met  mine  in  an  appeal :  I  could  give  her  no  hope 
of  escape.  There  was  nothing  for  it ;  we  must 
go  on,  we  and  Mouraki  together.  But  my  heart 
was  buoyant  within  me,  and  I  exulted  in  the 
favours  of  fortune,  as  a  lover  in  his  mistress's 
smiles.  Was  not  Mouraki  lying  dead  in  the 
stern  of  the  boat,  and  was  not  I  alive  ? 

We  drew  near  to  the  gunboat ;  now  I  perceived 
that  her  steam  launch  lay  by  her  and  smoke 
poured  from  its  funnel.  Evidently  the  launch 
was  ready  for  a  voyage.  Whither  ?  Could  it  be 
to  Rhodes  ?  And  did  the  pocket-book  that  I  felt 
against  my  ribs,  by  any  chance,  contain  the  cargo 


The  Armenian  Dog!  367 

which  was  to  have  been  speeded  on  its  way  to- 
day ?  I  laughed  again  as  our  boat  came  along- 
side, and  a  movement  of  excitement  and  inter- 
est rose  from  the  deck  of  gunboat  and  launch 
alike. 

The  officer  went  on  board  the  gunboat :  for  an 
hour  or  more  we  sat  where  we  were,  sheltered 
by  the  side  of  the  vessel  from  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
for  it  was  now  noon.  What  was  happening  on 
board  I  could  not  tell,  but  there  was  stir  and 
bustle.  The  excitement  seemed  to  grow.  Pre- 
sently it  spread  from  the  vessel  to  the  shore,  and 
groups  of  islanders  began  to  collect.  I  saw  men 
point  at  Phroso,  at  me,  at  the  stiffened  figure 
under  the  coat.  They  spoke  also,  and  freely; 
more  boldly  than  I  had  heard  them  since  Mouraki 
had  landed  and  his  presence  turned  their  fierce 
pride  to  meekness.  It  was  as  though  a  weight 
had  been  lifted  off  them.  I  knew  from  my  own 
mind  the  relief  that  came  to  them  by  the  death 
of  the  hard  man  and  the  removal  of  the  ruthless 
arm.  Presently  a  boat  put  off  and  began  to  pull 
round  the  promontory.  The  soldiers  did  not 
interfere,  but  watched  it  go  in  idle  toleration.  I 
guessed  its  errand  ;  it  went  to  take  up  the  corpse 
of  Demetri,  and  (I  was  much  afraid)  to  give  it  a 
patriot's  funeral. 

At  last  Mouraki's  body  was  carried  on  to  the 
gunboat ;  then  a  summons  came  to  me.  With  a 


368  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

glance  of  encouragement  at  Phroso,  who  sat  in  a 
sort  of  stupor,  I  rose  and  obeyed.  I  was  con- 
ducted on  to  the  deck  and  found  myself  face 
to  face  with  the  captain.  He  was  a  Turk,  a 
young  man  of  dignified  and  pleasant  appearance. 
He  bowed  to  me  courteously,  although  slightly. 
I  supposed  that  Mouraki's  death  left  him  the 
supreme  authority  in  Neopalia  and  I  made  him 
the  obeisance  proper  to  his  new  position. 

"  This  is  a  terrible,  a  startling  event,  my  lord," 
said  he. 

"  It's  the  loss  of  a  very  eminent  and  distin- 
guished man,"  I  observed. 

"Ah,  yes,  and  in  a  very  fearful  manner,"  he 
answered.  "  I  am  not  prejudging  your  position, 
but  you  must  see  that  it  puts  you  in  a  rather 
serious  situation." 

There  were  two  or  three  of  his  officers  stand- 
ing near;  I  took  a  step  towards  him.  I  liked  his 
looks  ;  and  somehow  his  grief  at  Mouraki's  end 
did  not  seem  intense.  I  determined  to  play  the 
bold  game. 

"  Nothing,  I  assure  you,  to  what  I  should  have 
been  in  if  it  had  not  occurred,"  said  I  com- 
posedly. 

A  start  and  a  murmur  ran  round  the  group. 
The  captain  looked  uncomfortable. 

"  With  his  Excellency's  plans  we  have  nothing 
to  do "  he  began. 


The  Armenian  Dog!  369 

"  Aye,  but  I  have,"  said  I.  "  And  when  I  tell 
you " 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  captain  hastily,  "  leave 
us  alone  for  a  little  while." 

I  saw  at  once  that  I  had  made  an  impression. 
It  seemed  not  difficult  to  create  an  impression 
adverse  to  Mouraki  now  that  he  was  dead ; 
though  it  had  not  been  wise  to  display  one  when 
he  was  alive. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I,  when  we  were  left 
alone  together,  "  whether  you  knew  the  relations 
between  the  late  Pasha  and  myself  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  he  in  a  steady  voice,  looking  me 
full  in  the  face. 

"  It  was  not,  perhaps,  within  the  sphere  of 
your  duty  to  know  them  ?  "  I  hazarded. 

"  It  was  not,"  said  he.  I  thought  I  saw  the 
slightest  of  smiles  glimmering  between  beard 
and  moustache. 

"  But  now  that  you're  in  command,  it's  differ- 
ent?" 

"  It   is   undoubtedly   different   now,"    he  ad- 
mitted. 

"  Shall  we  talk  in  your  cabin  ?  " 

"  By  all  means," — and  he  led  the  way. 

When  we  reached  the  cabin  I  gave  him  a  short 
sketch  of  what  had  happened  since  Mouraki's 
arrival ;  he  was  already  informed  as  to  the  events 
before  that  date.  He  heard  me  with  unmoved 


37°  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

face.  At  last  I  came  to  my  attempted  escape 
with  Phroso  by  the  secret  passage,  and  to  Con- 
stantine's  attack. 

"  That  fellow  was  a  villain,"  he  observed. 

"Yes,"  said  I.  "Read  those."  And  I  handed 
him  the  printed  slips,  adding,  "I  suppose  he  sent 
these  by  fishing-boats  to  Rhodes,  first  to  pave  the 
way,  and  finally  to  account  for  my  disappearance." 

"  I  must  congratulate  you  on  a  lucky  escape, 
my  lord." 

"  You  have  more  than  that  to  congratulate  me 
on,  captain.  Your  launch  seems  ready  for  a  voy- 
age." 

"  Yes,  but  I  have  countermanded  the  orders." 

"  What  were  they  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lord,  but  what  con- 
cern is  it  ?  " 

"  For  a  trip  to  Rhodes,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  deny  it  if  you  guess  it." 

"  By  the  order  of  the  Pasha  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"  On  what  errand  ?  " 

"  His  Excellency  did  not  inform  me." 

"  To  carry  this  perhaps  ?  "  I  flung  the  paper 
which  bore  Mouraki's  handwriting,  on  the  table 
that  stood  between  us. 

He  took  it  up  and  read  it ;  while  he  read,  I  took 
my  pencil  from  my  pocket  and  wrote  on  the 
blank  slip  of  paper  which  I  had  found  in  the 


The  Armenian  Dog!  371 

pocket-book  the  message  that  Mouraki's  brain 
had  surely  conceived,  though  his  fingers  had 
grown  stiff  in  death  before  they  could  write  it. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ? "  asked  the  cap- 
tain, looking  up  as  he  finished  reading. 

"And  to-morrow,"  said  I,  "I  think  another 
message  would  have  gone  to  Rhodes " 

"  I  had  orders  to  be  ready  to  go  myself  to- 
morrow." 

"  You  had  ?  "  I  cried.  "  And  what  would  you 
have  carried  ?  " 

"  That  I  don't  know." 

"  Aye,  but  I  do.  There's  your  cargo  !  "  and  I 
flung  down  what  I  had  written. 

He  read  it  once  and  again,  and  looked  across 
the  table  at  me,  fingering  the  slip  of  paper. 

"  He  did  not  write  this?  "  he  said. 

"  As  you  saw,  I  wrote  it.  If  he  had  lived,  then 
as  surely  as  I  live  he  would  have  written  it. 
Captain,  it  was  for  me  that  the  dagger  was 
meant.  Else  why  did  he  take  the  man  Demetri 
with  him?  Had  Demetri  cause  to  love  him,  or 
he  cause  to  trust  Demetri?" 

The  captain  stood  holding  the  paper.  I 
walked  round  the  table  and  laid  my  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"You  didn't  know  his  schemes,"  said  I.  "They 
weren't  schemes  that  he  could  tell  to  a  Turkish 
gentleman." 


372  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

At  this  instant  the  door  opened  and  the  officer 
who  had  been  with  us  in  the  morning  entered. 

"  I  have  laid  his  Excellency's  body  in  his 
cabin,"  he  said. 

"  Come,"  said  the  captain,  "  we  will  go  and  see 
it,  my  lord." 

I  followed  him  to  where  Mouraki  lay.  The 
Pasha's  face  was  composed,  and  there  was  even 
the  shadow  of  a  smile  on  his  pale  lips. 

"  Do  you  believe  what  I  tell  you  ? "  I  asked. 
"  I  tried  to  save  the  girl  from  him,  and  in  return 
he  meant  to  kill  me.  Do  you  believe  me?  If 
not,  hang  me  for  his  murder :  if  you  do,  why  am 
I  a  prisoner  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  Where  is 
my  offence  ?  " 

The  captain  looked  down  on  Mouraki's  face, 
tugged  at  his  moustache,  smiled,  was  silent  an 
instant.  Then  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
he  said — he  who  had  not  dared,  a  day  before,  to 
lift  his  voice  or  raise  his  finger  unbidden  in  Mou- 
raki's presence, — 

"  Faugh,  the  Armenian  dog!  " 

There  was,  I  fear,  race-prejudice  in  that 
exclamation,  but  I  did  not  contradict  it.  I  stood 
looking  down  on  Mouraki's  face :  and  to  my 
fancy,  stirred  by  the  events  of  the  past  hours 
and  twisted  from  sobriety  to  strange  excesses  of 
delusion,  the  lips  seemed  once  again  to  curl  in 
their  old  bitter  smile,  as  he  lay  still  and  heard 


The  Armenian  Dog!  373 

himself  spurned,  and  could  not  move  to  exact 
the  vengeance  which  in  his  life  he  had  never 
missed. 

So  we  left  him — the  Armenian  dog ! 


CHAPTER  XX. 
A  Public  Promise. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  next  day  I  was  once 
again  with  my  faithful  friends  on  board  the  little 
yacht.  Furious  with  the  trick  Mouraki  had 
played  them,  they  rejoiced  openly  at  his  fall,  and 
mingled  their  congratulations  to  me  with  hearty 
denunciations  of  the  dead  man.  In  sober  reality 
we  had  every  reason  to  be  glad.  Our  new  mas- 
ter was  of  a  different  stamp  from  Mouraki ;  he 
was  a  proud,  reserved,  honest  gentleman,  with  no 
personal  ends  to  serve  ;  he  had  informed  me  that 
I  must  remain  on  the  island  till  he  received  in- 
structions concerning  me,  but  he  encouraged  me 
to  hope  that  my  troubles  were  at  last  over ;  in- 
deed I  gathered  from  a  hint  or  two  which  he  let 
fall  that  Mouraki's  end  was  not  likely  to  be 
received  with  great  regret  in  exalted  circles.  In 
truth  I  have  never  known  a  death  greeted  with 
more  general  satisfaction.  The  soldiers  regarded 
me  with  quiet  approval :  to  the  people  of  Neopa- 
lia  I  became  a  hero  :  everybody  seemed  to  have 
learned  something  at  least  of  the  story  of  my 


A  Public  Promise*  375 

duel  with  the  Pasha,  and  everybody  had  been  (so 
it  now  appeared)  on  my  side.  I  could  not  walk 
up  the  street  without  a  shower  of  benedictions ; 
the  islanders  fearlessly  displayed  their  liking  for 
me  by  way  of  declaring  their  hatred  for  Mouraki's 
memory  and  their  exultation  in  his  fitting  death. 
In  these  demonstrations  they  were  not  interfered 
with,  and  the  captain  went  so  far  as  to  shut  his 
eyes  judiciously  when,  under  cover  of  night,  they 
accorded  Demetri  the  tribute  of  a  public  funeral. 
To  this  function  I  did  not  go,  although  I  was 
informed  that  my  presence  was  confidently 
expected,  but  I  sought  out  Panayiota  and  told 
her  how  her  lover  died.  She  heard  the  story 
with  Spartan  calm  and  pride ;  Neopalians  take 
deaths  easily. 

Yet  there  were  shadows  on  our  new-born  pros- 
perity. Most  lenient  and  gracious  to  me,  the 
captain  preserved  a  severe  and  rigorous  attitude 
towards  Phroso.  He  sent  her  to  her  own  house 
— or  my  house,  as  with  amiable  persistence  he 
called  it — and  kept  her  there  under  guard.  Her 
case  also  would  be  considered,  he  said,  and  he 
had  forwarded  my  exoneration  of  her  together 
with  the  account  of  Mouraki's  death  ;  but  he 
feared  very  much  that  she  would  not  be  allowed 
to  remain  in  the  island  ;  she  would  be  a  centre 
of  discontent  there  ;  as  for  my  proposal  to  re- 
store Neopalia  to  her,  he  assured  me  that  it 


376  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

would  not  be  listened  to  for  a  moment.  If  I  de- 
clined to  keep  the  island,  probably  a  suitable 
and  loyal  Lord  would  be  selected,  and  Phroso 
would  be  deported. 

"  Where  to  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Really  I  don't  know,"  said  the  captain.  "  It 
is  but  a  small  matter,  my  lord,  and  I  have  not 
troubled  my  superiors  with  any  recommendation 
on  the  subject." 

As  he  spoke  he  rose  to  go  ;  he  had  been  pay- 
ing us  a  visit  on  the  yacht,  where,  in  obedience 
to  his  advice,  I  had  taken  up  my  abode.  Denny, 
who  was  sitting  near,  gave  a  curious  sort  of 
laugh.  I  frowned  fiercely.  The  captain  looked 
from  one  to  the  other  of  us  in  bland  curiosity. 

"  You  take  an  interest  in  the  girl  ?  "  he  said  in 
a  tone  in  which  surprise  struggled  with  civility. 
Again  came  Denny's  half-smothered  laugh. 

"  An  interest  in  her  ?  "  said  I  irritably.  "  Well, 
I  suppose  I  do.  It  looked  like  it  when  I  took 
her  through  that  infernal  passage,  didn't  it  ?  " 

The  captain  smiled  apologetically  and  pursued 
his  way  towards  the  door.  "  I  will  try  to  obtain 
lenient  treatment  for  her,"  said  he,  and  passed 
out.  I  was  left  alone  with  Denny,  who  chose  at 
this  moment  to  begin  to  whistle.  I  glared  most 
ill-humouredly  at  him.  He  stopped  whistling  and 
remarked, — 

"  By  this  time  to-morrow  our  friends  at  home 


A  Public  Promise*  377 

will  be  taking  off  their  mourning :  they'll  read  in 
the  papers  that  Lord  Wheatley  is  not  dead  of 
fever  at  Neopalia,  and  they  won't  read  that  he 
has  fallen  a  victim  to  the  misguided  patriotism 
of  the  islanders.  In  fact  they'll  be  prepared  to 
kill  the  fatted  calf  for  him." 

It  was  all  perfectly  true,  both  what  Denny 
said  and  what  he  implied  without  saying.  But  I 
found  no  answer  to  make  to  it. 

"  What  a  happy  ending  it  is,"  said  Denny. 

"Uncommonly,"  I  growled,  lighting  a  cigar. 

After  this  there  was  a  long  silence  ;  I  smoked, 
Denny  whistled.  I  saw  that  he  was  determined 
to  say  nothing  more  explicit  unless  I  gave  him  a 
lead,  but  his  whole  manner  exuded  moral  disap- 
proval. The  consciousness  of  his  feelings  kept 
me  obstinately  dumb. 

"  Going  to  stay  here  long  ?  "  he  asked  at  last, 
in  a  wonderfully  careless  tone. 

"  Well,  there's  no  hurry,  is  there?"  I  retorted 
aggressively. 

"  Oh,  no ;  only  I  should  have  thought oh 

well, nothing." 

Again  silence !  Then  Watkins  opened  the 
door  of  the  cabin  and  announced  the  return  of 
the  captain.  I  was  surprised  to  see  him  again  so 
soon ;  I  was  more  surprised  when  he  came  at  me 
with  outstretched  hand  and  a  smile  of  mingled 
amusement  and  reproof  on  his  face. 


378  Phrosoj  A  Romance. 

"  My  dear  lord  ! "  he  exclaimed,  seizing  my 
defenceless  hand.  "  Is  this  treating  me  quite 
fairly  ?  So  far  as  a  word  from  you  went,  I  was 
left  completely  in  the  dark.  Of  course,  I  under- 
stand now,  but  it  was  an  utter  surprise  to  me." 
He  shook  his  head  with  playful  reproach. 

"  If  you  understand  now,  I  confess  you  have 
the  advantage  of  me,"  I  returned  with  some  stiff- 
ness. "  Pray,  sir,  what  has  occurred  ?  No  doubt 
it's  something  remarkable;  I've  learned  to  rely 
on  Neopalia  for  that." 

"  It  was  remarkable  in  my  eyes,  I  admit,  and 
rather  startling.  But  of  course  I  acquiesced. 
In  fact,  my  dear  lord,  it  materially  alters  the  sit- 
uation. As  your  wife,  she  will  be  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent— 

"  Hallo  !  "  cried  Denny,  leaping  up  from  the 
bench  where  he  had  been  sitting. 

"  In  a  very  different  position  indeed,"  pursued 
the  captain  blandly.  "  We  should  have,  if  I  may 
say  so,  a  guarantee  for  her  good  behaviour.  We 
should  have  you  to  look  to — a  great  security,  as 
I  need  not  tell  you." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  I  in  exasperated  pleading, 
"you  don't  seem  to  think  you  need  tell  me  any- 
thing. Pray  inform  me  of  what  has  occurred, 
and  what  this  wonderful  thing  is  that  makes  so 
much  change." 

"  Indeed,"  said  he,  "  if  I  had  surprised  a  secret, 


A  Public  Promise.  379 

I  would  apologise.  But  it's  evidently  known  to 
all  the  islanders." 

"  Well,  but  I'm  not  an  islander,"  I  cried  in 
growing  fury. 

The  captain  sat  down,  lit  a  cigarette  very  deli- 
berately, and  observed, — 

"  It  was  perhaps  stupid  of  me  not  to  have 
thought  of  it.  She  is,  of  course,  a  beautiful  girl, 
but  hardly,  if  I  may  say  so,  your  equal  in  posi- 
tion, my  lord." 

I  jumped  up  and  caught  him  by  the  shoulder. 
He  might  order  me  under  arrest  if  he  liked,  but 
he  should  tell  me  what  had  happened  first. 

"  What's  happened  ?  "  I  reiterated.  "  Since 
you  left  us — what  ?  " 

"  A  deputation  of  the  islanders,  headed  by 
their  priest,  came  to  ask  my  leave  for  the  inhabi- 
tants to  go  up  to  the  house  and  see  their  Lady." 

"  Yes,  yes.     What  for  ?  " 

"To  offer  her  their  congratulations  on  her 
betrothal " 

"  What  ?  " 

"And  their  assurances  of  loyalty  to  her  and  to 
her  husband  for  her  sake.  Oh,  it  simplifies  the 
matter  very  much." 

"  Oh,  does  it  ?  And  did  you  tell  them  they 
might  go  ?  " 

"Was  there  any  objection?  Certainly.  Cer- 
tainly I  told  them  they  might  go,  and  I  added  that 


380  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

I  heard  with  great  gratification  that  a  marriage 
>» 

What  the  captain  had  said  to  the  deputation  I 
did  not  wait  to  hear.  No  doubt  it  was  something 
highly  dignified  and  appropriate,  for  he  was  evi- 
dently much  pleased  with  himself.  But  before 
he  could  possibly  have  finished  so  ornate  a  sen- 
tence, I  was  on  the  deck  of  the  yacht.  I  heard 
Denny  push  back  his  chair ;  whether  merely  in 
wonder  or  in  order  to  follow  me  I  did  not  know. 
I  leaped  from  the  yacht  on  to  the  jetty,  and 
started  to  run  up  the  street  nearly  as  quickly  as  I 
had  run  down  it  on  the  day  when  Mouraki  was 
kind  enough  to  send  my  friends  a-fishing.  At 
all  costs  I  must  stop  the  demonstration  of  delight 
which  the  inconvenient  innocence  of  these  isl- 
anders was  preparing. 

Alas,  the  street  was  a  desert !  The  movements 
of  the  captain  were  always  leisurely  ;  the  impe- 
tuous Neopalians  had  wasted  no  time  ;  they  had 
got  a  start  of  me,  and  running  up  the  hill  after 
them  was  no  joke.  Against  my  will  I  was  at  last 
obliged  to  drop  into  a  walk,  and  thus  pursued  my 
way  doggedly,  thinking  in  gloomy  despair  how 
everything  conspired  to  push  me  along  the  road 
which  my  honour  and  my  pledged  word  closed  to 
me.  Was  ever  man  so  tempted  ?  Did  ever  cir- 
cumstances so  conspire  with  his  own  wishes,  or 
fate  make  duty  seem  more  hard  ? 


A  Public  Promise*  381 

I  turned  the  corner  of  the  road  which  led  to 
the  old  house.  It  was  here  I  had  first  heard 
Phroso's  voice  in  the  darkness,  here  where  from 
the  window  of  the  hall  I  had  seen  her  lithe, 
graceful  figure  when  she  came  in  her  boy's  dress 
to  raid  my  cows ;  a  little  further  on  was  where  I 
had  said  farewell  to  her  when  she  went  back,  the 
grant  of  Neopalia  in  her  hand,  to  soften  the 
hearts  of  her  turbulent  countrymen  ;  here  where 
Mouraki  had  tried  her  with  his  guile  and  intimi- 
dated her  with  his  harshness ;  and  there  was  the 
house  where  I  had  declared  to  the  Pasha  that  she 
should  be  my  wife.  How  sweet  that  saying 
sounded  in  my  remembering  ears  !  Yet  I  swear 
I  did  not  waver.  Many  have  called  me  a  fool  for 
it  since.  I  know  nothing  about  that.  Times 
change,  and  people  are  very  wise  nowadays  ;  my 
father  was  a  fool,  I  daresay,  to  give  thousands  to 
his  spendthrift  schoolfellow,  just  because  he  hap- 
pened to  have  said  he  would. 

I  saw  them  now,  the  bright  picturesque  crowd 
thronging  round  the  door  of  the  house ;  and  on 
the  step  of  the  threshold  I  saw  her,  standing 
there,  tall  and  slim,  with  one  hand  resting  on  the 
arm  of  Kortes's  sister.  A  loud  cry  rose  from  the 
people ;  she  did  not  seem  to  speak.  With  set 
teeth  I  walked  on.  Now  some  one  in  the  circle 
caught  sight  of  me.  There  was  another  eager 
cry,  a  stir,  shouts,  gestures ;  then  they  turned 


382  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

and  ran  to  me ;  before  I  could  move  or  speak,  a 
dozen  strong  hands  were  about  me.  They 
swung  me  up  on  their  shoulders  and  carried  me 
along  ;  the  rest  waved  their  hands  and  cheered  ; 
they  blessed  me  and  called  me  their  Lord  ;  the 
women  laughed,  and  the  girls  shot  merry,  shy 
glances  at  me.  Thus  they  bore  me  in  triumph 
to  Phroso's  feet.  Surely  I  was  indeed  a  hero  in 
Neopalia  to-day,  for  they  believed  that  through 
me  their  Lady  would  be  left  to  them  and  their 
island  escape  the  punishment  they  feared.  So 
they  sang  One-eyed  Alexander's  chant  no  more, 
but  burst  into  a  glad  hymn — an  epithalamium — 
as  I  knelt  at  Phroso's  feet  and  did  not  dare  to 
lift  my  eyes  to  her  fair  face. 

"  Here's  a  mess  !  "  I  groaned,  wondering  what 
they  had  said  to  my  poor  Phroso. 

Then  a  sudden  silence  fell  on  them.  Looking 
up  in  wonder,  I  saw  that  Phroso  had  raised  her 
hand  and  was  about  to  speak.  She  did  not  look 
at  me,  nay,  she  did  not  look  at  them  ;  her  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  sea  that  she  loved.  Then  her 
voice  came,  low  but  clear, — 

"  Friends, — for  all  are  friends  here  and  there 
are  no  strangers, — once  before  in  the  face  of  all 
of  you  I  have  told  my  love  for  my  lord  ;  my  lord 
did  not  know  that  what  I  said  was  true,  and  I 
have  not  told  him  that  it  was  true  till  I  tell  him 
here  to-day.  But  you  talk  foolishly  when  you 


A  Public  Promise*  383 

greet  me  as  my  lord's  bride.  For  in  his  country 
he  is  a  great  man  and  owns  great  wealth ;  and 
Neopalia  is  very  small  and  poor ;  and  I  seem 
but  a  poor  girl  to  him,  though  you  call  me  your 
Lady." 

Here  she  paused  an  instant :  then  she  went  on, 
her  voice  sinking  a  little  lower  and  growing  al- 
most dreamy,  as  if  she  let  herself  drift  idly  on 
the  waves  of  fancy. 

"  Is  it  strange  to  speak  to  you — to  you  my 
brothers  and  sisters  of  our  island?  I  do  not 
know  ;  I  love  to  speak  to  you  all.  For  poor  as 
I  am  and  as  our  island  is,  I  think  sometimes  that 
had  my  lord  come  here  a  free  man  he  would 
have  loved  me.  But  his  heart  was  not  his  own, 
and  the  lady  he  loves  waits  for  him  at  home,  and 
he  will  go  to  her.  So  wish  me  joy  no  more  on 
what  cannot  be."  And  then,  very  suddenly,  be- 
fore I  or  any  of  them  could  move  or  speak,  she 
withdrew  inside  the  threshold,  and  Kortes's  sister 
swiftly  closed  the  door.  I  was  on  my  feet  as  it 
shut,  and  I  stood  facing  it,  my  back  to  the  is- 
landers. 

Among  them  at  first  there  was  an  amazed  si- 
lence, but  soon  voices  began  to  be  heard.  I 
turned  round  and  met  their  gaze.  The  strong 
yoke  of  Mouraki  was  off  them ;  their  fear  had 
gone,  and  with  it  their  meekness;  they  were 
again  in  the  fierce,  impetuous  mood  of  St.  Try- 


384  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

phon's  day  ;  they  were  exasperated  at  their  dis- 
appointment, enraged  to  find  the  plan  which  left 
Phroso  to  them  and  relieved  them  of  the  threat- 
ened advent  of  a  Government  nominee  brought 
to  nothing. 

"  They'll  take  her  away,"  said  one. 

"  They'll  send  us  a  rascally  Turk,"  cried  an- 
other. 

"  He  shall  hear  the  death-chant  then,"  men- 
aced a  third. 

Then  their  anger,  seeking  an  outlet,  turned  on 
me.  I  do  not  know  that  I  had  the  right  to  con- 
sider myself  an  entirely  innocent  victim. 

"He  has  won  her  love  by  fraud,"  muttered 
one  to  another,  with  evil-disposed  glances  and 
ominous  frowns. 

I  thought  they  were  going  to  handle  me 
roughly,  and  I  felt  for  the  revolver  which  the 
captain  had  been  kind  enough  to  restore  to  me. 
But  a  new  turn  was  given  to  their  thoughts  by  a 
tall  fellow  with  long  hair  and  flashing  eyes,  who 
leaped  out  from  the  middle  of  the  throng,  crying 
loudly, — 

"Is  not  Mouraki  dead?  Why  need  we  fear? 
Shall  we  wait  idle  while  our  Lady  is  taken  from 
us  ?  To  the  shore,  islanders !  Where  is  fear 
since  Mouraki  is  dead?" 

His  words  lit  a  torch  that  blazed  up  furiously. 
In  an  instant  they  were  aflame  with  the  mad 


A  Public  Promise*  385 

notion  of  attacking  the  soldiers  and  the  gunboat. 
No  voice  was  raised  to  point  out  the  hopelessness 
of  such  an  attempt,  the  certain  death  and  the 
heavy  penalties  which  must  wait  on  it.  The 
death-chant  broke  out  again,  mingled  with  ex- 
hortations to  turn  and  march  against  the  soldiers, 
and  with  encouragements  to  the  tall  fellow — 
Orestes  they  called  him — to  put  himself  at  their 
head.  He  was  not  loth. 

"  Let  us  go  and  get  our  guns  and  our  knives," 
he  cried,  "  and  then  to  the  shore  !  " 

"  And  this  man  ?  "  called  half-a-dozen,  point- 
ing at  me. 

"  When  we  have  driven  out  the  soldiers  we 
will  deal  with  him,"  said  Master  Orestes.  "  If 
our  Lady  desires  him  for  her  husband,  he  shall 
wed  her." 

A  shout  of  approval  greeted  this  arrangement, 
and  they  drew  together  into  a  sort  of  rude 
column,  the  women  making  a  fringe  to  it.  But 
I  could  not  let  them  march  on  their  own  de- 
struction without  a  word  of  warning.  I  sprang 
on  to  the  raised  step  where  Phroso  had  stood, 
just  outside  the  door,  and  cried, — 

"  You  fools  !  The  guns  of  the  ship  will  mow 
you  down  before  you  can  touch  a  hair  of  the 
head  of  a  single  soldier." 

A  deep  derisive  groan  met  my  attempt  at  dis- 
suasion. 


386  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  On,  on  !  "  they  cried. 

"  It's  certain  death,"  I  shouted,  and  now  I  saw 
one  or  two  of  the  women  hesitate,  and  look  first 
at  me  and  then  at  each  other  with  doubt  and 
fear.  But  Orestes  would  not  listen,  and  called 
again  to  them  to  take  the  road.  Thus  we  were 
when  the  door  behind  me  opened,  and  Phroso 
was  again  by  my  side.  She  knew  how  matters 
went;  her  eyes  were  wild  with  terror  and  distress. 

"  Stop  them,  my  lord,  stop  them,"  she  im- 
plored. 

For  answer,  I  took  my  revolver  from  my 
pocket,  saying,  "  I'll  do  what  I  can." 

"  No,  no,  not  like  that !  That  would  be  your 
death  as  well  as  theirs." 

"  Come,"  cried  Orestes,  in  the  pride  of  his 
sudden  elevation  to  leadership.  "  Come,  follow 
me,  I'll  lead  you  to  victory." 

"You  fools,  you  fools!"  I  groaned.  "In  an 
hour  half  of  you  will  be  dead  !  " 

No,  they  would  not  listen.  Only  the  women 
now  laid  imploring  hands  on  the  arms  of  hus- 
bands and  brothers, — useless  loving  restraints 
angrily  flung  off. 

"  Stop  them,  stop  them !  "  prayed  Phroso. 
"  By  any  means,  my  lord,  by  any  means !  " 

"  There's  only  one  way,"  said  I. 

"  Whatever  the  way  may  be,"  she  urged ;  for 
now  the  column  was  facing  round  towards  the 


A  Public  Promise.  387 

harbour.  Orestes  had  taken  his  place,  swelling 
with  importance  and  eager  to  display  his  prowess. 
In  a  word,  Neopalia  was  in  revolt  again,  and  the 
death-chant  threatened  to  swell  out  in  all  its 
barbaric,  simple  savagery  at  any  moment. 

There  was  nothing  else  for  it.  I  must  tempo- 
rise ;  and  that  word  is  generally,  and  was  in  this 
case,  the  equivalent  of  a  much  shorter  one.  I 
could  not  leave  these  mad  fools  to  rush  on  ruin. 
A  plan  was  in  my  head  and  I  gave  it  play.  I 
took  a  pace  forward,  raised  my  hand  and  cried, — 

"  Hear  me  before  you  march,  Neopalians,  for  I 
am  your  friend." 

My  voice  gained  me  a  minute's  silence  ;  the 
column  stood  still,  though  Orestes  chafed  impa- 
tiently at  the  delay. 

"  You're  in  haste,  men  of  Neopalia,"  said  I. 
"  Indeed  you're  always  in  haste.  You  were  in 
haste  to  kill  me  who  had  done  you  no  harm. 
You  are  in  haste  to  kill  yourselves  by  marching 
into  the  mouth  of  the  great  gun  of  the  ship.  In 
truth  I  wonder  that  any  of  you  are  still  alive. 
But  here  in  this  matter  you  are  most  of  all  in 
haste ;  for,  having  heard  what  the  Lady  Phroso 
said,  you  have  not  asked  nor  waited  to  hear  what 
I  say,  but  have  at  once  gone  mad,  all  of  you,  and 
chosen  the  maddest  among  you  and  made  him 
your  leader." 

I  do  not  think  that  they  had  expected  quite 


388  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

this  style  of  speech.  They  had  looked  for  pas- 
sionate reproaches  or  prayerful  entreaties ;  cool 
scorn  and  chaff  put  them  rather  at  a  loss,  and  my 
reference  to  Orestes,  who  looked  sour  enough, 
won  me  a  hesitating  laugh. 

"And  then,  all  of  you  mad  together,  off  you 
go,  leaving  me  here  the  only  sane  man  in  the 
place  !  For  am  not  I  sane  ?  Aye,  not  mad  enough 
to  leave  the  fairest  lady  in  the  world  when  she 
says  she  loves  me."  I  took  Phroso's  hand  and 
kissed  it.  It  lay  limp  and  cold  in  mine.  "  For 
my  home,"  I  went  on,  "  is  a  long  way  off,  and  it 
is  long  since  I  have  seen  the  lady  of  whom  you 
have  heard  ;  and  aman'sheart  will  not  be  denied." 
Again  I  kissed  Phroso's  hand,  but  I  dared  not 
look  her  in  the  face. 

My  meaning  had  dawned  on  them  now.  There 
was  an  instant's  silence,  the  last  relic  of  doubt 
and  puzzle.  Then  a  sudden  loud  shout  went  up 
from  them.  Orestes  alone  was  sullen  and  mute, 
for  my  surrender  deposed  him  from  his  brief 
eminence.  Again  and  again  they  shouted  in 
joy.  I  knew  that  their  shouts  must  reach  nearly 
to  the  harbour.  Men  and  women  crowded 
round  me  and  seized  my  hand  ;  nobody  seemed 
to  make  any  bones  about  the  "  lady  who  waited  " 
for  me.  They  were  single-hearted  patriots,  these 
Neopalians.  I  had  observed  that  virtue  in  them 
several  times  before,  and  their  behaviour  now 


A  Public  Promise.  389 

confirmed  my  opinion.  But  there  was,  of  course, 
a  remarkable  difference  in  the  manifestation.  Be- 
fore I  had  been  the  object,  now  I  was  the  sub- 
ject ;  for  by  announcing  my  intention  of  marry- 
ing Phroso  I  took  rank  as  a  Neopalian.  Indeed 
for  a  minute  or  two  I  was  afraid  that  the  post  of 
Generalissimo,  vacant  by  Orestes's  deposition, 
would  be  forcibly  thrust  upon  me. 

Happily  their  enthusiasm  took  a  course  which 
was  more  harmless,  although  it  was  hardly  less  em- 
barrassing. They  made  a  ring  round  Phroso  and 
me,  and  insisted  on  our  embracing  one  another 
in  the  glare  of  publicity.  Yet  somehow  I  forgot 
them  all  for  a  moment — them  all,  and  more  than 
them  all — while  I  held  her  in  my  arms. 

Now  it  chanced  that  the  captain,  Denny,  and 
Hogvardt  chose  this  moment  for  appearing  on 
the  road,  in  the  course  of  a  leisurely  approach  to 
the  house ;  and  they  beheld  Phroso  and  myself 
in  a  very  sentimental  attitude  on  the  doorstep, 
with  the  islanders  standing  round  in  high  delight. 
Denny's  amazed  "  Hallo  !  "  warned  me  of  what 
had  happened.  The  islanders — their  enmity  to- 
wards the  suzerain  power  allayed  as  quickly  as  it 
had  been  roused — ran  to  the  captain  to  impart 
the  joyful  news.  He  came  up  to  me,  and  be- 
stowed his  sanction  by  a  shake  of  the  hand. 

"  But  why  did  you  behave  so  strangely,  my 
lord,  when  I  wished  you  joy  an  hour  ago  on  the 


390  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

boat?"  he  asked;  and  it  was  a  very  natural 
question. 

"  Oh,  the  truth  is,"  said  I,  "  that  there  was  a 
little  difficulty  in  the  way  then." 

"  Oh,  a  lover's  quarrel  ?  "  he  smiled. 

"Well,  something  like  it,"  I  admitted. 

"  Everything  is  quite  right  now,  I  hope?"  he 
said  politely. 

"  Well,  very  nearly,"  said  I.  Then  I  met 
Denny's  eye. 

"  Am  I  also  to  congratulate  you  ?  "  said  Denny 
coldly. 

There  was  no  opportunity  of  explaining  mat- 
ters to  him  ;  the  captain  was  too  near. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  will,"  I  said,  "'  and 
if  Hogvardt  will  also." 

Hogvardt  shrugged  his  shoulders,  raised  his 
brows,  smiled,  and  observed, — 

"  I  trust  you're  acting  for  the  best,  my  lord." 

Denny  made  no  answer  at  all.  He  kicked  the 
ground  with  his  foot.  I  knew  very  well  what 
was  in  Denny's  mind.  Denny  was  of  my  family 
on  his  mother's  side  ;  and  Denny's  eye  asked, 
"  Where  is  the  word  of  a  Wheatley  ?  "  All  this 
I  realised  fully ;  I  read  his  mind  then  more 
clearly  than  I  could  read  my  own.  For  had  we 
been  alone,  and  had  he  put  to  me  the  plain  ques- 
tion, "  Do  you  mean  to  make  her  your  wife,  or 
are  you  playing  another  trick  ?  " — by  heaven,  I 


A  Public  Promise,  391 

should  not  have  known  what  to  answer !  I  had 
begun  a  trick ;  the  plan  was  to  persuade  the 
islanders  into  dispersing  peacefully  by  my  pre- 
tence, and  then  to  slip  away  quietly  by  myself, 
trusting  to  their  good  sense — although  a  broken 
reed,  yet  the  only  resource — to  make  them  ac- 
cept an  accomplished  fact.  But  was  that  my 
mind  now,  since  I  had  held  Phroso  in  my  arms, 
and  her  lips  had  met  mine  in  the  kiss  which  the 
islanders  hailed  as  the  pledge  of  our  union  ? 

I  did  not  know.  I  saw  Phroso  turn  and  go 
into  the  house  again.  The  captain  spoke  to 
Denny.  I  saw  him  point  up  to  the  window  of 
the  room  which  Mouraki  had  occupied.  He 
went  in ;  Denny  motioned  Hogvardt  to  his  side, 
and  they  two  also  went  in  the  house  without 
asking  me  to  accompany  them.  Gradually  the 
throng  of  islanders  dispersed ;  Orestes  flung  off 
in  sullen  disappointment ;  the  men — those  who 
had  knives  carefully  hiding  them — walked  down 
the  road  like  peaceful  citizens ;  the  women 
strolled  away,  laughing,  chattering,  gossiping,  de- 
lighted, as  women  always  are,  with  the  love  af- 
fair. Thus  I  was  left  alone  in  front  of  the  house. 
It  was  late  afternoon,  and  clouds  had  gathered 
over  the  sea.  The  air  was  very  still ;  no  sound 
struck  my  ear  except  the  wash  of  the  waves  on 
the  shore. 

There  I  stood  fighting  the  battle,  for  how  long 


392  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

I  do  not  know ;  the  struggle  within  me  was  very 
sore.  On  either  side  seemed  now  to  lie  a  path 
that  it  soiled  my  feet  to  tread  ;  on  the  one  was  a 
broken  pledge,  on  the  other  a  piece  of  trickery 
and  knavishness.  The  joy  of  a  love  that  could 
be  mine  only  through  dishonour  was  imperfect 
joy  ;  yet,  if  that  love  could  not  be  mine,  life 
seemed  too  empty  a  thing  to  live.  The  voices 
of  the  two  sounded  in  my  ear — the  light,  merry 
prattle  and  the  calmer,  sweeter  voice.  Ah,  this 
island  of  mine,  what  things  it  put  on  a  man ! 

At  last  I  felt  a  hand  laid  on  my  shoulder ;  I 
turned,  and  in  the  quick-gathering  dusk  of  the 
evening  I  saw  Kortes's  sister ;  she  looked  long 
and  earnestly  into  my  face. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  I.     "  What  is  it  now  ?  " 

"  She  must  see  you,  my  lord,"  answered  the 
woman.  "She  must  see  you  now,  at  once." 

I  looked  again  at  the  harbour  and  the  sea, 
trying  to  quell  the  tumult  of  my  thoughts  and 
to  resolve  what  I  would  do.  I  could  find  no 
course  and  settle  on  no  resolution. 

"  Yes,  she  must  see  me,"  said  I  at  last ;  I  could 
say  nothing  else. 

The  woman  moved  away,  a  strange  bewilder- 
ment showing  in  her  kind  eyes.  Again  I  was 
left  alone  in  my  restless  self-communings.  I 
heard  people  moving  to  and  fro  in  the  house.  I 
heard  the  window  of  Mouraki's  rooms  where  the 


A  Public  Promise.  393 

captain  was,  closed  with  a  decisive  hand.  And 
then  I  became  aware  of  some  one  approaching 
me.  I  turned  and  saw  Phroso's  white  dress 
gleaming  through  the  gloom,  and  her  face  nearly 
as  white  above  it. 

Yes,  the  time  had  come  ;  but  I  was  not  ready. 


CHAPTER  XXL 
A  "Word  of  Various  Meanings. 

SHE  came  up  to  me  swiftly  and  without  hesi- 
tation. I  had  looked  for  some  embarrassment, 
but  there  was  none  in  her  face.  She  met  my 
eyes  full  and  square,  and  began  to  speak  to  me 
at  once. 

"  My  lord,"  she  said,  "  I  must  ask  one  thing  of 
you :  I  must  lay  one  more  burden  on  you. 
After  to-day  I  dare  not  be  here  when  my  coun- 
trymen learn  how  they  are  deluded ;  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  face  them  ;  and  I  dare  not  trust  my- 
self to  the  Turks,  for  I  don't  know  what  they 
would  do  with  me.  Will  you  take  me  with  you 
to  Athens,  or  to  some  other  port  from  which  I 
can  reach  Athens  ?  I  can  elude  the  guards  here : 
I  shall  be  no  trouble :  you  need  only  tell  me 
when  your  boat  will  start,  and  give  me  a  corner 
to  live  in  on  board.  Indeed  I  grieve  to  ask 
more  of  you,  for  you  have  done  so  much  for  me, 

but  my  trouble  is  great  and What  is  it,  my 

lord?" 

I  had  moved  my  hand  to  stop  her.     She  had 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  395 

acted  in  the  one  way  in  which,  had  it  been  to 
save  my  life,  I  could  not  have.  She  put  what 
had  passed  utterly  out  of  the  way,  treating  it  as 
the  merest  trick.  My  part  in  it  was  to  her  the 
merest  trick ;  of  hers  she  said  nothing.  Had 
hers,  then,  been  a  trick  also  ?  My  blood  grew 
hot  at  the  thought ;  I  could  not  endure  it. 

"  When  your  countrymen  learn  how  they  are 
deluded  ?  "  said  I,  repeating  her  words.  "  De- 
luded in  what  ?  " 

"  In  the  trick  we  played  on  them,  my  lord,  to 
to  persuade  them  to  disperse." 

I  took  a  step  towards  her,  and  my  voice  shook 
as  I  said, — 

"Was  it  all  a  trick,  Phroso  ?  "  For  at  this 
moment  I  set  above  everything  else  in  the  world 
a  fresh  assurance  of  her  love.  I  would  force  it 
from  her,  sooner  than  not  have  it. 

She  answered  me  with  questioning  eyes  and  a 
sad  little  smile. 

"  Are  we  then  betrothed  ?  "  she  said  in  mourn- 
ful mockery. 

I  was  close  by  her  now.  I  did  not  touch  her, 
but  I  bent  a  little,  and  my  face  was  near  hers. 

"  Was  it  a  trick  to-day,  and  a  trick  on  Saint 
Tryphon's  day  also?  "  I  asked. 

She  gave  one  startled  glance  at  my  face,  and 
then  her  eyes  dropped  to  the  ground.  She  made 
no  answer  to  my  question. 


396  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Was  it  all  a  trick,  Phroso  ? "  I  asked  in 
entreaty,  in  urgency,  in  the  wild  longing  to  hear 
her  love  declared  once,  here,  to  me  alone,  where 
nobody  could  hear,  nobody  impair  its  sweet 
secrecy. 

Phroso's  answer  came  now,  set  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  the  saddest,  softest,  murmuring 
laugh. 

"Ah,  my  lord,  must  you  hear  it  again  ?  Am  I 
not  twice  shamed  already?" 

"  Be  shamed  yet  once  again,"  I  whispered ; 
then  I  saw  the  light  of  gladness  master  the  misty 
sorrow  in  her  eyes  as  I  had  seen  once  before  ;  and 
I  greeted  it,  whispering,  "  Yes,  a  thousand  times, 
a  thousand  times!  " 

"  My  dear  lord ! "  she  said ;  but  then  she 
sprang  back,  and  the  brightness  was  clouded 
again  as  she  stood  aloof,  regarding  me  in  speech- 
less, distressed  puzzle. 

"But,  my  lord "  she  murmured,  so  low  that 

I  scarcely  heard.  Then  she  took  refuge  in  a 
return  to  her  request :  "  You  won't  leave  me 
here,  will  you  ?  You'll  take  me  somewhere 
where  I  can  be  safe  ?  I — I'm  afraid  of  these  men, 
even  though  the  Pasha  is  dead." 

I  took  no  notice  of  the  request  she  repeated. 
I  seemed  unable  to  speak,  or  to  do  anything  else 
but  look  into  her  eyes :  and  I  said — a  touch  of 
awe  in  my  voice, — 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  397 

"  You  have  the  most  wonderful  eyes  in  all  the 
world,  Phroso." 

"  My  lord  !  "  murmured  Phroso,  dropping  en- 
vious lids.  But  I  knew  she  would  open  them 
soon  again,  and  so  she  did. 

"  Yes,  in  all  the  wide  world,"  said  I.  "  And  I 
want  to  hear  it  again." 

As  we  talked  we  had  moved  little  by  little  ; 
now  we  were  at  the  side  of  the  house  in  the  deep, 
dull  shadow  of  it.  Yet  the  eyes  I  praised  pierced 
the  gloom  and  shone  in  the  darkness.  And  sud- 
denly I  felt  arms  about  my  neck,  clasping  me 
tightly;  her  breath  was  on  my  cheek,  coming 
quick  and  uneven  ;  and  she  whispered, — 

"  Yes,  you  shall  hear  it  again  and  again  and 
again,  for  I  am  not  ashamed  now.  For  I  know, 
yes,  I  know.  I  love  you,  I  love  you,  ah,  how  I 
love  you  !  "  Her  whispers  found  answer  in  mine  : 
I  held  her  as  though  against  all  the  world  :  all  the 
world  was  in  that  moment,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing else  than  that  moment  in  all  the  world.  Had 
a  man  told  me  then  that  I  had  felt  love  before,  I 
would  have  laughed  in  his  face — the  fool ! 

But  then  Phroso  drew  back  again ;  the  brief 
rapture,  free  from  all  past  or  future,  all  thought 
or  doubt,  left  her,  and,  in  leaving  her,  forsook  me 
also.  She  stood  over  against  me,  murmuring, — 

"  But,  my  lord — 

I  knew  well  what  she  would  say,  and  for  an  in- 


398  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

stant  I  stood  silent ;  the  world  hung  for  us  on 
the  cast  of  my  next  words. 

"  But,  my  lord,  the  lady  who  waits  for  you 
over  the  sea  ?  "  There  sounded  a  note  of  fear  in 
the  softly  breathed  whisper  that  the  night  carried 
to  my  ear.  In  an  instant,  before  I  could  answer, 
Phroso  came  near  to  me  and  laid  one  hand  on 
my  arm,  speaking  gently  and  quickly.  "  Yes,  I 
know — I  see — I  understand,"  she  said,  "and  I 
thank  you,  my  lord ;  and  I  thank  God,  my  dear 
lord,  that  you  told  me  and  did  not  leave  me 
without  showing  me  your  love.  For  though  I 
must  be  very  unhappy,  yet  I  shall  be  proud ;  and 
in  the  long  nights  I  shall  think  of  this  dear  island 
and  of  you,  though  you  will  both  be  far  away. 
Yes,  I  thank  heaven  you  told  me,  my  dear  lord." 
She  bent  her  head,  that  should  have  bent  to  no 
man,  and  kissed  my  hand. 

But  I  snatched  my  hand  hastily  away,  and  I 
sprang  to  her  and  caught  her  again  in  my  arms, 
and  again  kissed  her  lips  ;  for  my  resolve  was 
made.  I  would  not  let  her  go.  Those  who 
would,  might  ask  the  rights  of  it ;  I  could  not  let 
her  go.  Yet  I  spoke  no  word,  and  she  did  not 
understand,  but  thought  that  I  kissed  her  in 
farewell  ;  for  the  tears  were  on  her  face  and 
wetted  my  lips ;  and  she  clung  to  me  as  though 
something  were  tearing  her  from  me  and  must 
soon  sunder  us  apart ;  so  greedy  was  her  grasp  on 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  399 

me.  But  then  I  opened  my  mouth  to  whisper  in 
her  ear  the  words  which  would  bid  defiance  to 
the  thing  that  was  tearing  her  away,  and  rivet  her 
life  to  mine. 

But  hark !  There  was  a  cry,  a  startled  ex- 
clamation, and  the  sound  of  footsteps.  My  name 
was  shouted  loud  and  eagerly.  I  knew  Denny's 
voice.  Phroso  slid  from  my  relaxed  arms,  and 
drew  back  into  the  deepest  shadow. 

"  I'll  be  back  soon,"  I  whispered,  and  with  a 
last  pressure  of  her  hand,  which  was  warm  now 
and  answered  to  my  grasp,  I  stepped  out  of  the 
shelter  of  the  wall  and  stood  in  front  of  the 
house. 

Denny  was  on  the  door-step ;  the  door  was 
open  ;  the  light  from  the  lamp  in  the  hall  flooded 
the  night  and  fell  full  on  my  face  as  I  walked  up 
to  him.  On  sight  of  me  he  seemed  to  forget  his 
own  errand  and  his  own  eagerness ;  for  he  caught 
me  by  the  shoulder,  and  stared  at  me,  crying, — 

"  Heavens,  man,  you're  as  white  as  a  sheet ! 
Have  you  seen  a  ghost  ?  Does  Constantine  walk 
— or  Mouraki?" 

"  Fifty  ghosts  would  be  a  joke  to  what  I've 
been  through.  My  God,  I  never  had  such  a 
time  !  What  do  you  want  ?  What  did  you  call 
me  for?  I  can't  stay.  She's  waiting."  For  now 
I  did  not  care ;  Denny  and  all  Neopalia  might 
know  now. 


400  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"Yes,  but  she  must  wait  a  little,"  he  said. 
"  You  must  come  into  the  house  and  come  up- 
stairs." 

"  I  can't,"  I  said  obstinately.  "  I — I — I  can't, 
Denny." 

"You  must.  Don't  be  a  fool,  Charley.  It's 
important ;  the  captain  is  waiting  for  you." 

His  face  seemed  big  with  news ;  what  it  might 
be  I  could  not  tell,  but  the  hint  of  it  was  enough 
to  make  me  catch  hold  of  him,  crying,  "  What  is 
it?  I'll  come." 

"  That's  right.  Come  along."  He  turned  and 
ran  rapidly  through  the  old  hall  and  up  the  stairs. 
I  followed  him,  my  mind  whirling  through  a 
cloud  of  possibilities. 

The  quiet,  business-like  aspect  of  the  room 
into  which  Denny  led  the  way  did  something  to 
sober  me.  I  pulled  myself  together,  seeking  to 
hide  my  feelings  under  a  mask  of  carelessness. 
The  captain  sat  at  the  table  with  a  mass  of  papers 
surrounding  him ;  he  appeared  to  be  examining 
them,  and,  as  he  read,  his  lips  curved  in  surprise 
or  contempt. 

"  This  Mouraki  was  a  cunning  fellow,"  said  he, 
"  but  if  any  one  had  chanced  to  get  hold  of  this 
box  of  his  while  he  was  alive,  he  would  not  have 
enjoyed  even  so  poor  a  post  as  he  thought  his 
governorship.  Indeed,  Lord  Wheatley,  had  you 
been  actually  a  party  to  his  death,  I  think  you 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  401 

need  have  feared  nothing  when  some  of  these 
papers  had  found  their  way  to  the  eyes  of  the 
Government.  We're  well  rid  of  him,  indeed  ! 
But  then,  as  I  always  say,  these  Armenians, 
though  they're  clever  dogs " 

But  I  had  not  come  to  hear  a  Turk  discourse 
on  Armenians,  and  I  broke  in,  with  an  impatience 
that  I  could  not  altogether  conceal, — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  is  that  all  you  wanted 
to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  thought  that  it  was  of  some 
importance  to  you,"  he  observed. 

"  Certainly,"  said  I,  regaining  my  composure  a 
little ;  "  but  your  courtesy  and  kindness  had 
already  reassured  me." 

He  bowed  his  acknowledgments,  and  proceeded 
in  a  most  leisurely  tone,  sorting  the  papers  and 
documents  before  him  into  orderly  heaps. 

"  On  the  death  of  the  Pasha,  the  government 
of  the  island  having  devolved  temporarily  on  me, 
I  thought  it  my  duty  to  examine  his  Excellency's 
— (curse  the  dog) — his  Excellency's  despatch-box, 
with  the  result  that  I  have  discovered  very 
remarkable  evidences  of  the  schemes  which  he 
dared  to  entertain.  With  this,  however,  perhaps 
I  need  not  trouble  you." 

"  I  wouldn't  intrude  into  it  for  the  world,"  I 
said. 

"  I  discovered  also,"  he  pursued  in  undisturbed 


402  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

leisure  and  placidity,  "  among  the  Pasha's  papers 
a  letter  addressed  to 

"  Me?  "  and  I  sprang  forward. 

"  No,  to  your  cousin,  to  this  gentleman.  Pursu- 
ing what  I  conceived  to  be  my  duty — and  I  must 

trust  to  Mr.  Swinton  to  forgive  me "  Here 

the  exasperating  fellow  paused,  looked  at  Denny, 
waited  for  a  bow  from  Denny,  duly  received  it, 
duly  and  with  ceremony  returned  it,  sighed  as 
though  he  were  much  relieved  at  Denny's  com- 
plaisance, cleared  his  throat,  arranged  a  little 
heap  of  papers  on  his  left  hand,  and  at  last — oh, 
at  last ! — went  on. 

"  This  letter,  I  say,  in  pursuance  of  what  I  con- 
ceived to  be  my  duty " 

"  Yes,  yes,  your  duty,  of  course.  Clearly  your 
duty.  Yes?" 

" — I  read.  It  appeared,  however,  to  contain 
nothing  of  importance " 

"  Then  why  the  deuce 1  mean — I  beg  your 

pardon." 

" — but  merely  matters  of  private  concern.  But 
I  am  not  warranted  in  letting  it  out  of  my  hands. 
It  will  have  to  be  delivered  to  the  Government 
with  the  rest  of  the  Pasha's  papers.  I  have,  how- 
ever, allowed  Mr.  Swinton  to  read  it.  He  says 
that  it  concerns  you,  Lord  Wheatley,  more  than 
himself.  I  therefore  propose  to  ask  him  to  read  it 
to  you  (I  can  decipher  English  but  not  speak  it 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings*  403 

with  facility)  in  my  presence."  With  this  he 
handed  an  envelope  to  Denny.  We  had  got  to 
it  at  last. 

"  For  heaven's  sake  be  quick  about  it,  my  dear 
boy,"  I  cried,  and  I  seated  myself  on  the  table, 
swinging  my  leg  to  and  fro  in  a  fury  of  restless 
impatience.  The  captain  eyed  my  agitated 
body  with  profound  disapproval. 

Denny  took  the  letter  from  its  envelope  and 
read  : — "  London,  May  2ist ;  "  then  he  paused  and 
remarked,  "  We  got  here  on  the  seventh,  you 
know."  I  nodded  hastily,  and  he  went  on,  "  My 
dear  Denny — Oh,  how  awful  this  is !  I  can 
hardly  bear  to  think  of  it !  Poor,  poor  fellow ! 
Mamma  is  terribly  grieved,  and  I,  of  course,  even 
more.  Both  mamma  and  I  feel  that  it  makes  it 
so  much  worse,  somehow,  that  this  news  should 
come  only  three  days  after  he  must  have  got 
mamma's  letter.  Mamma  says  that  it  doesn't 
really  make  any  difference,  and  that  if  her  letter 
was  wise,  then  this  terrible  news  can't  alter  that. 
I  suppose  it  doesn't  really,  but  it  seems  to, 
doesn't  it?  Oh,  do  write  directly  and  tell  me 
that  he  v/asn't  very  unhappy  about  it  when  he 
had  that  horrible  fever.  There's  a  big  blot — be- 
cause I'm  crying  !  I  know  you  thought  I  didn't 
care  about  him,  but  I  did — though  not  (as 
mamma  says)  in  one  way,  really.  Do  you  think 
he  forgave  me  ?  It  would  kill  me  if  I  thought 


404  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

he  didn't.  Do  write  soon.  I  suppose  you  will 
bring  poor  dear  Charley  home?  Please  tell  me 
he  didn't  think  very  badly  of  me.  Mamma  joins 
with  me  in  sincerest  sympathy — yours  most  sin- 
cerely, Beatrice  Kennett  Hipgrave.  P.  S. — Mr. 
Bennett  Hamlyn  has  just  called  ;  he  is  awfully 
grieved  about  poor  dear  Charley.  I  always  think 
of  him  as  Charley  still,  you  know.  Do  write." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  Denny  ob- 
served in  a  satirical  tone, — 

"  To  be  thought  of  still  as  '  Charley  '  is,  after 
all,  something." 

"But  what  the  devil  does  it  mean?"  I  cried, 
leaping  from  the  table. 

" '  I  suppose  you  will  bring  poor  dear  Charley 
home,'  "  repeated  Denny  in  a  meditative  tone. 
"  Well,  it  looks  rather  more  like  it  than  it  did  a 
few  days  ago,  I  must  admit." 

"  Denny,  Denny,  if  you  love  me,  what's  it  all 
about  ?  I  haven't  had  any  letter  from ' 

"  '  Mamma  '  ?  No,  we've  had  no  letter  from 
mamma.  But  then  we  haven't  had  any  letters 
from  anybody." 

"Then  I'm  hanged  if  I "  I  began  in  be- 
wildered despondency. 

"  But,  Charley,"  interrupted  Denny,  "  perhaps 
mamma  sent  a  letter  to Mouraki  Pasha!  " 

"  To  Mouraki  ?  " 

"  This  letter  of  mine  found  its  way  to  Mouraki." 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings,  405 

"  All  letters,"  observed  the  captain,  who  was 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  staring  at  the  ceil- 
ing, "  would  pass  through  his  hands,  if  he  chose 
to  make  them." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  I  cried,  springing  forward. 
The  hint  was  enough.  In  an  instant  my  busy, 
nervous,  shaking  hands  were  ruining  the  neat 
piles  of  documents  which  the  captain  had  reared 
so  carefully  in  front  and  on  either  side  of  him. 
I  dived,  tossed,  fumbled,  rummaged,  scattered, 
strewed,  tore.  The  captain,  incapable  of  resist- 
ing my  excited  energy,  groaned  in  helpless  de- 
spair at  the  destruction  of  his  evening's  work. 
Denny,  having  watched  me  for  a  few  minutes, 
suddenly  broke  out  into  a  peal  of  laughter.  I 
stopped  for  an  instant  to  glare  reproof  of  his  ill- 
timed  mirth,  and  turned  to  my  wild  search  again. 

The  search  seemed  useless.  Either  Mouraki 
had  not  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Bennett  Hip- 
grave,  or  he  had  done  what  I  myself  always  did 
with  the  good  lady's  communications — thrown  it 
away  immediately  after  reading  it.  I  examined 
every  scrap  of  paper,  official  documents,  private 
notes  (the  captain  was  very  nervous  when  I  in- 
sisted on  looking  through  these  for  a  trace  of 
Mrs.  Hipgrave's  name),  lists  of  stores, — in  a  word, 
the  whole  contents  of  Mouraki's  despatch-boxes. 

"  It's  a  blank !  "  I  cried,  stepping  back  at  last 
in  disappointment. 


406  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Yes,  it's  gone ;  but  depend  upon  it,  he  had 
it,"  said  Denny. 

A  sudden  recollection  flashed  across  me,  the 
remembrance  of  the  subtle,  amused  smile  with 
which  Mouraki  had  spoken  of  the  lady  who  was 
most  anxious  about  me  and  my  future  wife.  He 
must  have  known  then,  he  must  even  then  have 
had  Mrs.  Hipgrave's  letter  in  his  possession.  He 
had  played  a  deliberate  trick  on  me  by  suppress- 
ing the  letter;  hence  his  fury  when  I  announced 
my  intention  of  disregarding  the  ties  that  bound 
me,  a  fury  which  had,  for  the  moment,  conquered 
his  cool  cunning  and  led  him  into  violent  threats. 
At  that  moment,  when  I  realised  the  man's 
audacious  knavery,  when  I  thought  of  the  strug- 
gle he  had  caused  to  me  and  the  pain  to  Phroso, 
well,  just  then  I  came  near  to  canonising  Deme- 
tri,  and  nearer  still  to  grudging  him  his  exploit. 

"  What  was  in  the  letter  then  ? "  I  cried  to 
Denny. 

"Read  mine  again,"  said  he,  and  he  threw  it 
across  to  me. 

I  read  it  again.  I  was  cooler  now,  and  the 
meaning  of  it  stood  out  plain  and  not  to  be 
doubted.  Mrs.  Bennett  Hipgrave's  letter — her 
wise  letter — had  broken  off  my  engagement  to 
her  daughter.  The  fact  was  plain  ;  all  that  was 
missing,  destroyed  by  the  caution  or  the  care- 
lessness of  Mouraki  Pasha,  was  the  reason ;  and 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  407 

the  reason  I  could  supply  for  myself.  I  reached 
my  conclusion,  and  looked  again  at  Denny. 

"Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,"  said  Denny 
ironically. 

Man  is  a  curious  creature.  I  (and  other  peo- 
ple) may  have  made  that  reflection  before.  I 
offer  no  apology  for  it.  The  more  I  see  of  my- 
self and  my  friends  the  more  convinced  I  grow  of 
its  truth.  Here  was  the  thing  for  which  I  had 
been  hoping  and  praying,  the  one  great  gift  that 
I  asked  of  fate,  the  single  boon  which  fortune 
enviously  withheld.  Here  was  freedom — divine 
freedom  !  Yet  what  I  actually  said  to  Denny, 
in  reply  to  his  felicitations,  was, — 

"  Hang  the  girl !  She's  jilted  me  !  "  And  I 
said  it  with  considerable  annoyance. 

The  captain,  who  studied  English  in  his  spare 
moments,  here  interposed,  asking  suavely, — 

"  Pray,  my  dear  Lord  Wheatley,  what  is  the 
meaning  of  that  word — '  jilted  '  ?  " 

"  The  meaning  of '  jilted  '  ?  "  said  Denny.  "  He 
wants  to  know  the  meaning  of  'jilted,'  Charley." 

I  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  them ;  then 
I  said, — 

"  I  think  I'll  go  and  ask,"  and  I  started  for  the 
door.  The  captain's  expression  accused  me  of 
rudeness.  Denny  caught  me  by  the  arm. 

"  It's  not  decent  yet,"  said  he,  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye. 


408  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  It  happened  nearly  a  month  ago,"  I  pleaded. 
"  I've  had  time  to  get  over  it,  Denny ;  a  man 
can't  wear  the  willow  all  his  life." 

"You  old  humbug!"  said  Denny,  but  he  let 
me  go. 

I  was  not  long  in  going.  I  darted  down  the 
stairs.  I  suppose  a  man  tricks  his  conscience 
and  will  find  excuses  for  himself  where  others 
can  find  only  matter  for  laughter  ;  but  I  remem- 
ber congratulating  myself  on  not  having  spoken 
the  decisive  words  to  Phroso  before  Denny  in- 
terrupted us.  Well,  I  would  speak  them  now ; 
I  was  free  to  speak  them  now.  Suddenly  in 
this  thought  the  vexation  at  being  jilted  van- 
ished. 

"  It  amounts,"  said  I  to  myself  as  I  reached 
the  hall,  "  to  no  more  than  a  fortunate  coinci- 
dence of  opinion."  And  I  passed  through  the 
door  and  turned  sharp  round  to  the  left. 

She  was  there  waiting  for  me,  and  waiting 
eagerly,  it  seemed  ;  for  before  I  could  speak  she 
ran  to  me,  holding  out  her  hands  ;  and  she  cried 
in  a  low,  urgent  whisper,  full  of  entreaty,— 

"  My  lord,  I  have  thought.  I  have  thought 
while  you  were  in  the  house.  You  must  not 
do  this,  my  lord.  Yes,  I  know — now  I  know 
— that  you  love  me,  but  you  mustn't  do  this. 
My  lord's  honour  sha'n't  be  stained  for  my 
sake." 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  409 

I  could  not  resist  it,  and  I  cannot  justify  it. 
I  assumed  a  terribly  sad  expression. 

"  You've  really  come  to  that  conclusion, 
Phroso  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes.  Ah,  how  difficult  it  is !  But  my  lord's 

honour ah,  don't  tempt  me !  You  will  take 

me  to  Athens,  won't  you?  And  then " 

"  And  then,"  said  I,  "you'll  leave  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Phroso  with  a  little  catch  in  her 
voice. 

"And  what  shall  I  do,  left  alone  ?  " 

"  Go  back,"  murmured  Phroso  almost  inaudi- 
bly. 

"  Go  back — thinking  of  those  wonderful  eyes  ?  " 

"  No,  no.     Thinking  of " 

"  The  lady  who  waits  for  me  over  the  sea?  " 

"  Yes.  And,  oh,  my  lord,  I  pray  that  you  will 
find  happiness." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  ;  Phroso  did  not 
look  at  me  ;  but  then  I  did  look  at  Phroso. 

"  Then  you  refuse,  Phroso,  to  have  anything  to 
say  to  me  ?  " 

No  answer  at  all  reached  me ;  I  came  nearer, 
being  afraid  that  I  might  not  have  heard  her  re- 
ply. 

"What  am  I  to  do  for  a  wife,  Phroso?"  I 
asked  forlornly.  "  Because,  Phroso •" 

"  Ah,  my  lord,  why  do  you  take  my  hand 
again  ?  " 


410  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Did  I,  Phroso  ?  Because,  Phroso,  the  lady 
who  waits  over  the  sea — it's  a  charmingly  poetic 
phrase,  upon  my  word  !  " 

"You  laugh!"  murmured  Phroso  in  aggrieved 
protest  and  wonder. 

"Did  I  really  laugh,  Phroso?  Well,  I'm 
happy,  so  I  may  laugh." 

"  Happy  ?  "  she  whispered  ;  then  at  last  her 
eyes  were  drawn  to  mine  in  mingled  hope  and 
anguish  of  questioning. 

"  The  lady  who  waited  over  the  sea,"  said  I, 
"  waits  no  longer,  Phroso." 

The  wonderful  eyes  grew  more  wonderful  in 
their  amazed  widening;  and  Phroso,  laying  a 
hand  gently  on  my  arm,  said, — 

"  She  waits  no  longer?     My  lord,  she  is  dead  !  " 

This  confident  inference  was  extremely  flatter- 
ing. There  was  evidently  but  one  thing  which 
could  end  the  patient  waiting  of  the  lady  who 
waited. 

"  On  the  contrary  she  thinks  that  I  am.  Con- 
stantine  spread  news  of  my  death." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  " 

"  He  said  that  I  died  of  fever." 

"And  she  believes  it?" 

"  She  does,  Phroso  ;  and  she  appears  to  be 
really  very  sorry." 

"Ah,  but  what  joy  will  be  hers  when  she 
learns " 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  411 

"  But,  Phroso,  before  she  thought  I  was  dead, 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  wait  no  longer." 

"  To  wait  no  longer  ?  What  do  you  mean  ? 
Ah,  my  lord,  tell  me  what  you  mean !  " 

"  What  has  happened  to  me,  here  in  Neopalia, 
Phroso  ?  " 

"  Many  strange  things,  my  lord, — some  most 
terrible." 

"  And  some  most — most  what,  Phroso  ?  One 
thing  that  has  happened  to  me  has,  I  think,  hap- 
pened also  to  the  lady  who  waited." 

Phroso's  hand — the  one  I  had  not  taken — was 
suddenly  stretched  out,  and  she  spoke  in  a  voice 
that  sounded  half-stifled, — 

"  Tell  me,  my  lord,  tell  me.  I  can't  endure  it 
longer." 

Then  I  grew  grave  and  said, — 

"  I  am  free.     She  has  given  me  my  freedom." 

"  She  has  set  you  free  ?  " 

"She  loves  me  no  longer,  I  suppose,  if  she 
ever  did." 

"  Oh,  but,  my  lord,  it  is  impossible." 

"  Should  you  think  it  so  ?  Phroso,  it  is  true — 
true  that  I  can  come  to  you  now." 

She  understood  at  last.  For  a  moment  she 
was  silent,  and  I,  silent  also,  pierced  through  the 
darkness  to  her  wondering  face.  Once  she 
stretched  out  her  arms  ;  then  there  came  a  little, 
long,  low  laugh,  and  she  put  her  hands  together, 


412  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

and  thrust  them,  thus  clasped,  between  mine  that 
closed  on  them. 

"  My  lord  !  my  lord  !  my  lord  !  "  said  Phroso. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  low  mournful  chant  coming 
up  from  the  harbour,  the  moan  of  mourning 
voices.  The  sound  struck  across  the  stillness 
which  had  followed  her  last  words. 

"  What's  that  ? "  I  asked.  "  What  are  they 
doing  down  there?" 

"  Didn't  you  know  ?  The  bodies  of  my  cousin 
and  of  Kortes  came  forth  at  sunset  from  the 
secret  pool  into  which  they  fell ;  and  they  bring 
them  now  to  bury  them  by  the  church.  They 
mourn  Kortes  because  they  loved  him  ;  and  Con- 
stantine  also  they  feign  to  mourn,  because  he 
was  of  the  house  of  the  Stefanopouloi." 

We  stood  for  some  minutes  listening  to  the 
chant  that  rose  and  fell  and  echoed  among  the 
hills.  Its  sad  cadences,  mingled  here  and  there 
with  the  note  of  sustained  hope,  seemed  a  fitting 
end  to  the  story,  to  the  stormy  days  that  were 
rounded  off  at  last  by  peace  and  joy  to  us  who 
lived,  and  by  the  embraces  of  the  all-hiding,  all- 
pardoning  earth  for  those  who  had  fallen.  I  put 
my  arm  round  Phroso,  and,  thus  at  last  together, 
we  listened  till  the  sounds  died  away  in  low 
echoes,  and  silence  fell  again  on  the  island. 

"  Ah,  the  dear  island  !  "  said  Phroso  softly. 
"You  won't  take  me  away  from  it  for  ever?  It 


A  Word  of  Various  Meanings.  413 

is  my  lord's  island  now,  and  it  will  be  faithful  to 
him,  even  as  I  myself;  for  God  has  been  very 
good,  and  my  lord  is  very  good." 

I  looked  at  her;  her  cheeks  were  again  wet 
with  tears  ;  as  I  watched,  a  drop  fell  from  her 
eyes.  I  said  to  her  softly, — 

"That  shall  be  the  last,  Phroso,  till  we  part 
again." 

A  loud  cough  from  the  front  of  the  house  in- 
terrupted us:  I  advanced,  beckoning  to  Phroso 
to  follow,  and  wearing,  I  am  afraid,  the  apologetic 
look  usual  under  such  circumstances.  And  I 
found  Denny  and  the  captain. 

"Are  you  coming  down  to  the  yacht, 
Charley  ?  "  asked  Denny. 

"  Er — in  a  few  minutes,  Denny." 

"  Shall  I  wait  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  can  find  my  way." 

Denny  laughed  and  caught  me  by  the  hand ; 
then  he  passed  on  to  Phroso.  I  do  not,  however, 
know  what  he  said  to  her,  for  at  this  moment  the 
captain  touched  my  shoulder  and  demanded  my 
attention. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  "but  you  never 
told  me  the  meaning  of  that  word." 

"  What  word,  my  dear  captain  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  word  you  used  of  the  lady's  letter 
— of  what  she  had  done." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  '  jilted  '  ?  " 


414  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Yes,  that's  it." 

"  It  is,"  said  I,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "  a 
word  of  very  various  meanings." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  captain,  with  a  comprehending 
nod. 

"Yes,  very  various.  In  one  sense  it  means  to 
make  a  man  miserable." 

"  Yes,  I  see  ;  to  make  him  unhappy." 

"  And  in  another  to  make  him — to  make  him, 
captain,  the  luckiest  beggar  alive." 

"  It's  a  strange  word,"  observed  the  captain 
meditatively. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  I.  "  Good- 
night." 


CHAPTER  XXIL 
One  More  Run. 

THE  next  morning  came  bright  and  beautiful, 
with  a  pleasant  fresh  breeze.  It  was  just  the  day 
for  a  run  in  the  yacht.  So  I  thought  when  I 
mounted  on  deck  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. Watkins  was  there,  staring  meditatively  at 
the  harbour  and  the  street  beyond.  Perceiving 
me,  he  touched  his  hat  and  observed, — 

"  It's  a  queer  little  place,  my  lord." 

My  eyes  followed  the  direction  of  Watkins's, 
and  I  gave  a  slight  sigh. 

"  Do  you  think  the  island  is  going  to  be  quiet 
now,  Watkins  ?  "  I  asked. 

I  do  not  think  that  he  quite  understood  my 
question,  for  he  said  that  the  weather  looked 
like  being  fine.  I  had  not  meant  the  weather ; 
my  sigh  was  paid  to  the  ending  of  Neopalia's 
exciting  caprices  ;  for,  though  the  end  was  pros- 
perous, I  was  a  little  sorry  that  we  had  come  to 
the  end. 

"  The  Lady  Phroso  will  come  on  board  about 
ten,  and  we'll  go  for  a  little  run,"  I  said.  "Just 
look  after  some  lunch." 


4*6  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

"  Everything  will  be  ready  for  your  lordship 
and  her  ladyship,"  said  Watkins.  Hitherto  he 
had  been  rather  doubtful  about  Phroso's  claim 
to  nobility,  but  the  news  of  last  night  planted 
her  firmly  in  the  status  of  "  ladyship."  "  Has 
your  lordship  heard,"  he  continued,  "  that  the 
launch  is  to  carry  the  Governor's  body  to  Con- 
stantinople ?  There  she  is  by  the  gunboat." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see.  They  seem  to  be  giving  the 
gunboat  a  rub  down,  Watkins." 

"  Not  before  it  was  necessary,  my  lord.  A 
dirtier  deck  I  never  saw." 

The  gunboat  was  evidently  enjoying  a  thor- 
ough cleaning ;  the  sailors,  half  naked,  were 
scouring  her  decks,  and  some  of  the  soldiers  were 
assisting  lazily. 

"  The  officers  have  landed  to  explore  the 
island,  my  lord.  When  Mouraki  was  alive,  they 
were  not  allowed  to  land  at  all." 

"  Mouraki's  death  makes  a  good  many  differ- 
ences, eh,  Watkins?" 

"  That  it  does,  my  lord,"  rejoined  Watkins, 
with  a  decorous  smile. 

I  left  him,  and,  having  landed,  strolled  up  to 
the  house.  The  yacht  was  to  have  her  steam  up 
ready  to  start  by  the  time  I  returned.  I  strolled 
leisurely  through  the  street,  such  of  the  islanders 
as  I  met  saluting  me  in  a  most  friendly  fashion. 
Certainly  times  were  changed  for  me  in  Neopalia, 


One  More  Run.  4*7 

and  I  chid  myself  for  the  ingratitude  expressed 
in  my  sigh.  Neopalia  in  its  new  placidity  was 
very  pleasant. 

Very  pleasant  also  was  Phroso,  as  she  came  to 
meet  me  from  the  house,  radiant  and  shy.  We 
wasted  no  time  there,  but  at  once  returned  to 
the  harbour,  for  the  dancing  water  tempted  us : 
thus  we  found  ourselves  on  board  an  hour  before 
the  appointed  time,  and  I  took  Phroso  down 
below  to  show  her  the  cabin,  in  which,  under 
the  escort  of  Kortes's  sister,  she  was  to  make 
the  voyage.  Denny  looked  in  on  us  for  a  mo- 
ment, announced  that  the  fires  were  getting  up, 
and  that  we  could  start  in  half  an  hour.  Hog- 
vardt  appeared  with  his  account  of  expenditure, 
and  disappeared  far  more  quickly.  Meanwhile 
we  talked  as  lovers  will — and  ought — about 
things  that  do  not  need  record  ;  for,  not  being 
worth  remembering,  they  are  ever  remembered, 
as  is  the  way  of  this  perverse  world. 

Presently,  however,  Denny  hailed  me,  telling 
me  that  the  captain  desired  to  see  me.  I  begged 
Phroso  to  stay  where  she  was — I  should  be  back 
in  a  moment — and  went  on  deck.  The  captain 
was  there,  and  he  began  to  draw  me  aside.  Per- 
ceiving that  he  had  something  to  say,  I  proposed 
to  him  that  we  should  go  to  the  little  smoking- 
room  forward.  He  acquiesced,  and  as  soon  as 
we  were  seated,  and  Watkins  had  brought  coffee 


4i 8  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

and  cigarettes,  he  turned  to  me  with  an  aspect 
of  sincere  gratification,  as  he  said, — 

"  My  dear  Lord  Wheatley,  I  am  rejoiced  to 
tell  you  that  I  was  quite  right  as  to  the  view 
likely  to  be  taken  of  your  position.  I  have  re- 
ceived by  the  launch  instructions  telegraphed  to 
Rhodes,  and  they  enable  me  to  set  you  free  at 
once.  In  point  of  fact,  there  is  no  disposition  in 
official  quarters  to  raise  any  question  concerning 
your  share  in  recent  events.  You  are  therefore 
at  liberty  to  suit  your  own  convenience  entirely, 
and  I  need  not  detain  you  an  hour." 

"  My  dear  captain,  I'm  infinitely  obliged  to 
you.  I'm  much  indebted  for  your  good 
offices." 

"  Indeed,  no.  I  merely  reported  what  had 
occurred.  Shall  you  leave  to-day?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  not  for  a  day  or  two.  To-day,  you 
see,  I'm  going  for  a  little  pleasure-expedition.  I 
wish  you'd  join  us."  For  I  felt  in  a  most 
friendly  mood  towards  him. 

"  Indeed  I  wish  I  could,"  said  he  with  equal 
friendliness.  "  But  I'm  obliged  to  go  up  to  the 
house  at  once." 

"  To  the  house  ?     What  for  ?  " 

"To  communicate  to  the  Lady  Euphrosyne 
my  instructions  concerning  her." 

I  was  about  to  put  a  cigarette  to  my  lips,  but 
I  stopped,  suspending  it  in  mid-air. 


One  More  Run,  419 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  I,  "but  have  you 
instructions  concerning  her?" 

O 

He  smiled,  and  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm  with  an 
apologetic  air. 

"  I  don't  think  that  there  is  any  cause  for  seri- 
ous uneasiness,"  said  he,  "  though  the  delay  will, 
I  fear,  be  somewhat  irksome  to  you.  I  must  say, 
also,  that  it  is  impossible — yes,  I  admit  that  it  is 
impossible — altogether  to  ignore  the  serious  dis- 
turbances which  have  occurred.  And  these  Neo- 
palians  are  old  offenders.  Still  I'm  confident 
that  the  lady  will  be  most  leniently  treated, 
especially  in  view  of  the  relation  in  which  she 
now  stands  to  you." 

"  What  are  your  instructions  ?  "  I  asked  shortly. 

"  I  am  instructed  to  bring  her  with  me,  as  soon 
as  I  have  made  provisional  arrangements  for  the 
order  of  the  island,  and  to  carry  her  to  Smyrna, 
where  I  am  ordered  to  sail.  From  there  she  will 
be  sent  home,  to  await  the  result  of  an  inquiry. 
But  pray  don't  be  uneasy.  I  have  no  doubt  at 
all  that  she  will  be  acquitted  of  blame  or  at  least 
escape  with  a  reprimand  or  a  nominal  penalty. 
The  delay  is  really  the  only  annoying  matter. 
Annoying  to  you,  I  mean,  Lord  Wheatley." 

"  The  delay  ?     Is  it  likely  to  be  serious  ?  " 

"  Well,"  admitted  the  captain  with  a  candid 
air,  "  we  don't  move  hastily  in  these  matters ; 
no,  our  procedure  is  not  rapid.  Still  I  should 


Phroso:  A  Romance. 

say  that  a  year,  or,  well,  perhaps  eighteen  months, 
would  see  an  end  of  it.  Oh,  yes,  I  really  think  so." 

"  Eighteen  months  ?  "  I  cried,  aghast.  "  But 
she'll  be  my  wife  long  before  that ;  in  eighteen 
days  I  hope." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  my  dear  lord,"  said  he,  shaking 
his  head  soothingly.  "  She  will  certainly  not  be 
allowed  to  marry  you  until  these  matters  are 
settled.  But  don't  be  vexed.  You're  young. 
You  can  afford  to  wait.  What,  after  all,  is  a 
year  or  eighteen  months  at  your  time  of  life?  " 

"  It's  a  great  deal  worse,"  said  I,  "  than  at  any 
other  time  of  life."  But  he  only  laughed  gently 
and  gulped  down  the  remainder  of  his  coffee. 
Then  he  went  on  in  his  quiet,  placid  way, — 

"So  I'm  afraid  I  can't  join  your  little  excur- 
sion. I  must  go  up  to  the  house  at  once,  and 
acquaint  the  lady  with  my  instructions.  She 
may  have  some  preparations  to  make,  and  I  must 
take  her  with  me  the  day  after  to-morrow.  As 
you  see,  my  ship  is  undergoing  some  trifling  re- 
pairs and  cleaning,  and  I  can't  be  ready  to  start 
before  then." 

I  sat  silent  for  a  moment  or  two,  smoking  my 
cigarette  ;  and  I  looked  at  the  placid  captain  out 
of  the  corner  of  my  eye. 

"  I  really  hope  you  aren't  much  annoyed,  my 
dear  Lord  Wheatley  ?  "  said  he  after  a  moment 
or  two. 


One  More  Run.  421 

"Oh,  it's  vexatious,  of  course,"  I  returned 
carelessly,  "  but  I  suppose  there's  no  help  for  it. 
But,  captain,  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  join 
us  to-day.  We  shall  be  back  in  the  afternoon, 
and  it  will  be  plenty  of  time  then  to  inform 
the  Lady  Phroso.  She's  not  a  fashionable 
woman  who  wants  forty-eight  hours  to  pack  her 
gowns." 

"  It's  certainly  a  lovely  morning  for  a  little 
cruise,"  said  the  captain  longingly. 

"And  I  want  to  point  out  to  you  the  exact 
spot  where  Demetri  killed  the  Pasha." 

"  That  would  certainly  be  very  interesting." 

"  Then  you'll  come  ?  " 

"  You're  certain  to  be  back  in  time  for ?  " 

"  Oh,  you'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  talk  to 
Phroso.  I'll  see  to  that.  You  can  send  a  mes- 
sage to  her  now,  if  you  like." 

"  I  don't  think  that's  necessary.  If  I  see  her 
this  afternoon " 

"  I  promise  you  that  you  shall." 

"  But  aren't  you  going  to  see  her  to-day  ?  I 
thought  you  would  spend  the  day  with  her." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  hope  to  see  her  too  ;  you  won't 
monopolise  her,  you  know.  Just  now  I'm  for  a 
cruise." 

"  You're  a  philosophical  lover,"  he  laughed.  I 
laughed  also,  shrugging  my  shoulders. 

"Then  if  you'll    excuse  me — no,  don't  move, 


422  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

don't  move — I'll  give  orders  for  our  start,  and 
come  back  for  another  cigarette  with  you." 

"You're  most  obliging,"  said  he,  and  sank 
back  on  the  seat  that  ran  round  the  little  saloon. 

At  what  particular  point  in  the  conversation 
which  I  have  recorded  my  resolution  was  de- 
finitely  taken,  I  cannot  say ;  but  it  was  complete 
and  full-blown  before  the  captain  accepted  my 
invitation.  The  certainty  of  a  separation  of  such 
monstrous  length  from  Phroso,  and  the  chance  of 
her  receiving  harsh  treatment,  were  more  than  I 
could  consent  to  contemplate.  I  must  play  for 
my  own  hand.  The  island  meant  to  be  true  to 
its  nature  to  the  last ;  my  departure  from  it  was  to 
be  an  escape,  not  a  decorous  leave-taking.  I  was 
almost  glad  ;  yet  I  hoped  that  I  should  not  get 
my  good  friend  the  captain  into  serious  trouble. 
Well,  better  the  captain  than  Phroso,  anyhow  ; 
and  I  laughed  to  myself  when  I  thought  of  how 
I  should  redeem  my  promise  and  give  him  plenty 
of  time  to  talk  to  Phroso. 

I  ran  rapidly  up  to  the  deck ;  Denny  and  Hog- 
vardt  were  there. 

"  How  soon  can  you  have  full  steam  up  ? "  I 
asked  in  an  urgent,  cautious  whisper. 

"  In  ten  minutes  now,"  said  Hogvardt,  suddenly 
recognising  my  eagerness. 

"  Why,  what's  up,  man  ?  "  asked  Denny. 

"  They're  going  to  send   Phroso  to  Constant}- 


One  More  Run,  423 

nople  to  be  tried  ;  anyhow  they'd  keep  her  there 
a  year  or  more.  I  don't  mean  to  stand  it." 

"  Why,  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  Go.  The  captain's  on  board  ;  the  gun- 
boat can't  overtake  us.  Besides,  they  won't  sus- 
pect anything  on  board  of  her.  Denny,  run  and 
tell  Phroso  not  to  show  herself  till  I  bid  her. 
The  captain  thinks  she's  up  at  the  house.  We'll 
start  as  soon  as  you're  ready,  Hog." 

"  But,  my  lord— 

"  Charley,  old  man !  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  stand  it.  Are  you  game 
or  aren't  you  ?  " 

Denny  paused  for  a  moment,  poising  himself 
on  his  heels. 

"What  a  lark!"  he  exclaimed  then.  "All 
right.  I'll  put  Phroso  up  to  it," — and  he  disap- 
peared in  the  direction  of  her  cabin. 

I  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  the  gunboat, 
where  the  leisurely  operations  went  on  undis- 
turbed, and  at  the  harbour  and  street  beyond.  I 
shook  my  head  reprovingly  at  Neopalia ;  the 
little  island  was  always  leading  me  into  indiscre- 
tions. Then  I  turned  and  made  my  way  back  to 
where  my  unsuspecting  victim  was  peacefully 
consuming  cigarettes.  Mouraki  Pasha  would  not 
have  been  caught  like  this  !  Heaven  be  thanked, 
I  was  not  dealing  with  Mouraki  Pasha. 

"  Demetri  had  some  good  in  him,  after  all,"  I 


424  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

thought,  as  I  sat  down  by  the  captain  and 
told  him  that  we  should  be  under  way  in  five 
minutes.  He  exhibited  much  satisfaction  at  the 
prospect. 

The  five  minutes  passed;  Hogvardt,  who 
acted  as  our  skipper,  gave  his  orders  to  our  new 
and  smiling  crew  of  islanders.  We  began  to 
move.  The  captain  and  I  came  up  from  below 
and  stood  on  deck.  He  looked  seaward,  antici- 
pating his  excursion,  I  landward  reviewing  mine. 
A  few  boys  waved  their  hands,  a  woman  or  two 
her  handkerchief ;  the  little  harbour  began  to  re- 
cede ;  the  old  grey  house  on  the  hill  faced  me  in 
its  renewed  tranquillity. 

"  Well,  good-bye  to  Neopalia !  "  I  had  said 
with  a  sigh,  before  I  knew  it. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lord  Wheatley?"  said 
the  captain,  wheeling  round. 

"  For  a  few  hours,"  I  added  ;  and  I  went  for- 
ward and  began  to  talk  with  Hogvardt ;  I  had 
some  things  to  arrange  with  him.  Presently 
Watkins  appeared,  announcing  luncheon.  I  re- 
joined the  captain. 

"  I  thought,"  said  I,  "  that  we'd  have  a  run 
straight  out  first  and  look  at  Mouraki's  death- 
place  on  our  way  home." 

"  I'm  entirely  in  your  hands,"  said  he  most 
courteously,  and  with  more  truth  than  he  was 
aware  of. 


One  More  Run.  425 

Denny,  he,  and  I  went  down  to  our  meal.  I 
plied  the  captain  with  the  best  of  our  cheer;  in 
the  safe  seclusion  of  the  yacht,  champagne-cup, 
mixed  as  Watkins  alone  could  mix  it,  overcame 
his  religious  scruples;  the  breach  once  made 
grew  wider,  and  the  captain  became  merry. 
With  his  coffee  came  placidity,  and  on  placidity 
followed  torpor.  Meanwhile  the  yacht  bowled 
merrily  along. 

"  It's  nearly  two  o'clock,"  said  I.  "We  ought 
to  be  turning.  I  say,  captain,  wouldn't  you  like 
a  nap  ?  I'll  wake  you  long  before  we  get  to 
Neopalia." 

Denny  smiled  indiscreetly  at  this  form  of 
promise,  and  I  covertly  nudged  him  into  gravity. 

The  captain  received  my  proposal  with  apolo- 
getic gratitude.  We  left  him  curled  up  on  the 
seat  and  went  on  deck.  Hogvardt  was  at  the 
wheel ;  a  broad  smile  spread  over  his  face. 

"At  this  rate,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "we  shall 
make  Cyprus  in  no  time." 

"  Good,"  said  I  ;  and  I  did  two  things.  I 
called  Phroso  and  I  loaded  my  revolver.  A  show 
of  overwhelming  force  is,  as  we  often  hear,  the 
surest  guarantee  of  peace. 

Denny  now  took  a  turn  at  the  wheel ;  old  Hog- 
vardt went  to  eat  his  dinner ;  Phroso  appeared, 
and  she  and  I  sat  down  in  the  stern,  watching 
where  Neopalia  lay,  now  a  little  spot  on  the  hori- 


426  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

zon.  And  then  I  myself  told  Phroso  in  my  own 
way  why  I  had  so  sorely  neglected  her  all  the 
morning,  for  Denny's  explanation  had  been  sum- 
mary and  confused.  She  was  fully  entitled  to 
my  excuses,  and  had  come  on  deck  in  a  state  of 
delightful  resentment,  too  soon,  alas,  banished 
by  surprise  and  apprehension. 

An  hour  or  two  passed  thus  very  pleasantly ; 
for  the  terror  of  Constantinople  soon  reconciled 
Phroso  to  every  risk ;  her  only  fear  was  that  she 
would  never  again  be  allowed  to  land  in  Neopa- 
lia.  For  this  also  I  tried  to  console  her  and  was, 
I  am  proud  to  say,  succeeding  very  tolerably, 
when  I  looked  up  at  the  sound  of  footsteps.  They 
came  evenly  towards  us ;  then  they  suddenly 
stopped  dead.  I  felt  for  my  revolver ;  and  I  ob- 
served Denny  carelessly  strolling  up,  having  been 
relieved  again  by  Hogvardt.  The  captain  stood 
motionless,  three  yards  from  where  Phroso  and  I 
sat  together.  I  rose  with  an  easy  smile. 

"  I  hope  you've  enjoyed  your  nap,  captain," 
said  I ;  and  at  the  same  moment  I  covered  him 
with  my  barrel. 

He  was  astounded  ;  indeed,  well  he  might  be. 
He  stared  helplessly  at  Phroso  and  at  me. 
Denny  was  at  his  elbow  now,  and  took  his  arm  in 
tolerant  good-humour. 

"  You  soe  we've  played  a  little  game  on  you," 
said  Denny.  "  We  couldn't  let  the  lady  go  to 


One  More  Run.  427 

Constantinople.  It  isn't  at  all  a  fit  place  for  her, 
you  know." 

I  stepped  up  to  the  amazed  man  and  told  him 
briefly  what  had  occurred. 

"  Now,  captain,"  I  went  on,  "  resistance  is 
quite  useless.  We're  running  for  Cyprus.  It 
belongs  to  you,  I  believe,  in  a  sense — I'm  not  a 
student  of  foreign  affairs — but  I  think  we  shall 
very  likely  find  an  English  ship  there.  Now,  if 
you'll  give  your  word  to  hold  your  tongue  when 
we're  at  Cyprus,  you  may  lodge  as  many  com- 
plaints as  you  like  directly  we  leave  ;  indeed  I 
think  you'd  be  wise,  in  your  own  interests,  to 
make  a  protest  ;  meanwhile  we  can  enjoy  the 
cruise  in  good  fellowship." 

"And  if  I  refuse?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  you  refuse,"  said  I,  "  I  shall  be  compelled 
to  get  rid  of  you — oh,  don't  misunderstand  me,  I 
shall  not  imitate  your  Governor.  But  it's  a  fine 
day ;  we  have  an  excellent  gig ;  and  I  can  spare 
you  two  hands  to  row  you  back  to  Neopalia  or 
wherever  else  you  may  choose  to  go." 

"You  would  leave  me  in  the  gig?" 

"  With  the  deepest  regret,"  said  I,  bowing. 
"  But  I  am  obliged  to  put  this  lady's  safety 
above  the  pleasure  of  your  society." 

The  unfortunate  man  had  no  alternative,  and, 
true  to  the  creed  of  his  nation,  he  accepted  the 
inevitable.  Taking  the  cigarette  from  between 


428  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

his  lips,  he  remarked,  "  I  give  the  promise  you 
ask,  but  nothing  more,"  bowed  to  Phroso,  and, 
going  up  to  her,  said  very  prettily,  "  Madame,  I 
congratulate  you  on  a  resolute  lover." 

Now  hardly  had  this  happened  when  our  look- 
out man  called  twice  in  quick  succession,  "  Ship 
ahead ! "  At  once  we  all  ran  forward,  and  I 
snatched  Denny's  binocular  from  him.  There 
were  two  vessels  visible,  one  approaching  on  the 
starboard  bow,  the  other  right  ahead.  They 
appeared  to  be  about  equally  distant.  I  scanned 
them  eagerly  through  the  glass,  the  others  stand- 
ing round  and  waiting  my  report.  Nearer  they 
came,  and  nearer. 

"They're  both  ships  of  war,"  said  I,  without 
taking  the  glass  from  my  eyes.  "  I  shall  be  able 
to  see  the  flags  in  a  minute." 

A  hush  of  excited  suspense  witnessed  to  the 
interest  of  my  news.  I  found  even  the  impassive 
captain  close  by  my  elbow,  as  though  he  were 
trying  to  get  one  eye  on  to  the  lens  of  the  glass. 

My  next  remark  did  nothing  to  lessen  the  ex- 
citement. 

"  The  Turkish  flag,  by  Jove  !  "  I  cried  ;  and, 
quick  as  thought,  followed  from  the  captain, — 

"  My  promise  didn't  cover  that,  Lord  Wheat- 
ley." 

"  Shall  we  turn  and  run  for  it  ?  "  asked  Denny 
in  a  whisper. 


One  More  Ron.  429 

"They'd  think  that  queer,"  cautioned  Hog- 
vardt,  "  and  if  she  came  after  us,  we  shouldn't 
have  a  chance." 

"The  English  flag,  by  Jupiter!"  I  cried  a 
second  later,  and  I  took  the  glass  from  my 
strained  eyes.  The  captain  caught  eagerly  at  it 
and  looked  ;  then  he  also  dropped  it  and  said, — 

"  Yes,  Turkish  and  English  ;  both  will  come 
within  hail  of  us." 

"  It's  a  race,  by  Heaven  !  "  cried  Denny. 

The  two  vessels  were  approaching  us  almost 
on  the  same  course,  for  each  had  altered  half  a 
point,  and  both  were  now  about  half  a  point  on 
our  starboard  bow.  They  would  be  very  close 
to  one  another  by  the  time  they  came  up  with 
us ;  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  us,  by  any 
alteration  of  our  course,  to  reach  one  before  the 
other. 

"  Yes,  it's  a  race,"  said  I,  and  I  felt  Phroso's 
arm  passed  through  mine.  She  knew  the  mean- 
ing of  the  race.  Possession  is  nine  points  of  the 
law,  and  in  a  case  so  doubtful  as  hers  it  was  very 
unlikely  that  the  ship  which  got  possession  of 
her  would  surrender  her  to  the  other.  Which 
ship  was  it  to  be  ? 

"  Are  we  going  to  cause  an  international  com- 
plication ?  "  asked  Denny  in  a  longing  tone. 

"  We  shall  very  likely  run  into  a  nautical  one, 
if  we  don't  look  out,"  said  I. 


43°  Phroso:  A  Romance, 

However,  the  two  approaching  vessels  seemed 
to  become  aware  of  this  danger,  for  they  diverged 
from  one  another,  so  that,  if  we  kept  a  straight 
course,  we  should  now  pass  them  by,  one  on  the 
port  side  and  one  on  the  starboard.  But  we 
should  pass  within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of 
both ;  and  that  was  well  in  earshot  on  such  a 
day.  I  looked  at  the  captain,  and  the  captain 
looked  at  me. 

"  Shall  we  take  him  below  and  smother  him  ?  " 
whispered  Denny. 

I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  adopt  the  sugges- 
tion, much  to  my  regret.  The  agreement  I  had 
made  with  the  captain  precluded  any  assault  on 
his  liberty.  I  had  omitted  to  provide  for  the 
case  which  had  occurred.  Well,  that  was  my 
fault,  and  I  must  stand  the  consequences  of  it. 
My  word  was  pledged  to  him  that  he  should  be 
treated  in  all  friendliness  on  one  condition,  and 
that  he  had  satisfied.  Now  to  act  as  Denny 
suggested  would  not  be  to  treat  him  in  all  friend- 
liness. I  shook  my  head  sadly.  Hogvardt 
shouted  for  orders  from  the  wheel. 

"  What  am  I  to  do,  my  lord  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Full 
speed  ahead  ?  " 

I  looked  at  the  captain.  I  knew  he  would  not 
pass  the  Turkish  ship  without  trying  to  attract 
her  attention.  We  were  within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  vessels  now. 


One  More  Rum  431 

"  Stop,"  I  called,  and  I  added  quickly,  "  Lower 
away  the  gig,  Denny." 

Denny  caught  my  purpose  in  a  moment ;  he 
called  a  hand  and  they  set  to  work.  The  pace 
of  the  yacht  began  to  slacken.  I  glanced  at  the 
two  ships.  Men  with  glasses  were  peering  at 
us  from  either  deck,  wondering  no  doubt  what 
our  manoeuvre  meant.  But  the  captain  knew  as 
well  as  Denny  what  it  meant,  and  he  leaped  for- 
ward suddenly  and  hailed  the  Turk  in  his  native 
tongue.  What  he  said  I  don't  know,  but  it 
caused  a  great  pother  on  deck,  and  they  ran  up 
some  signal  or  other  :  I  never  remember  the  code, 
and  the  book  was  not  about  me. 

But  now  the  gig  was  down  and  the  yacht  mo- 
tionless. Looking  again,  I  perceived  that  both 
the  ships  had  shut  off  steam,  and  were  reversing, 
to  arrest  their  course  the  sooner.  I  seized 
Phroso  by  the  arm.  The  captain  turned  for  a 
moment  as  though  to  interrupt  our  passage. 

"  It's  as  much  as  your  life  is  worth,"  said  I, 
and  he  gave  way.  Then,  to  my  amazement,  he 
ran  to  the  side,  and,  just  as  he  was,  leaped  over- 
board and  struck  out  towards  the  Turk.  One  in- 
stant later  I  saw  why  :  they  were  lowering  a  boat. 
Alas,  our  ship  was  not  so  eager.  The  captain 
must  have  shouted  something  very  significant. 

"  Signal  for  a  boat,  Hog,"  I  cried.  "And  then 
come  along.  Hi,  Watkins,  come  on  !  Are  you 


43 2  Phroso:  A  Romance. 

ready,  Denny  ?  "  And  I  fairly  lifted  Phroso  in 
my  arms  and  ran  with  her  to  the  side.  She  was 
breathing  quickly,  and  a  little  laugh  gurgled 
from  her  lips  as  Denny  received  her  from  my 
arms  into  his  in  the  gig. 

But  we  were  not  safe  yet.  The  Turk  had  got 
a  start,  and  his  boat  was  springing  merrily  over 
the  waves  towards  us.  The  captain  swam  power- 
fully and  gallantly  ;  his  fez-covered  head  bobbed 
gaily  up  and  down.  Ah,  now  our  people  were 
moving!  And  when  they  began  to  move  they 
wasted  no  time.  We  wasted  none  either,  but 
bent  to  our  oars.  And  for  the  second  time  since 
I  reached  Neopalia  I  had  a  thorough  good  buck- 
eting. But  for  the  Turk's  start  we  should  have 
managed  it  easily,  as  we  rowed  towards  the  Eng- 
lish boat,  and  the  divergence  which  the  vessels 
had  made  in  their  course  prevented  the  two  from 
approaching  us  side  by  side :  but  the  start  was 
enough  to  make  matters  equal.  Now  the  boat 
and  the  captain  met :  he  was  in  in  a  second,  with 
wonderful  agility  ;  picking  him  up  hardly  lost 
them  a  stroke.  They  were  coming  straight  at 
•us,  the  captain  standing  in  the  stern,  urging  them 
on.  But  now  I  saw  that  the  middy  in  the  Eng- 
lish boat  had  caught  the  idea  that  there  was 
some  fun  afoot :  for  he  also  stood  up  and  urged 
on  his  crew.  The  two  great  ships  lay  motionless 
on  the  water,  and  gave  us  all  their  attention. 


One  More  Run.  433 

"  Pull,  boys,  pull !  "  I  cried.  "  It's  all  right, 
Phroso,  we  shall  do  it !  " 

Should  we  ?  And,  if  we  did  not,  would  the 
English  captain  fight  for  my  Phroso  ?  I  would 
have  sunk  the  Turk  with  a  laugh  for  her.  But 
I  was  afraid  that  he  would  not  be  so  obliging  as 
to  do  it  for  me. 

"  The  Turk  gains,"  said  Hogvardt,  who  was 
our  coxswain. 

"  Hang  him  !     Put  your  backs  into  it." 

On  went  the  three  boats :  the  two  pursuers 
were  now  converging  close  on  us. 

"  We  shall  do  it  by  a  few  yards,"  said  Hog- 
vardt. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  I  muttered. 

"  No,  we  shall  be  beaten  by  a  few  yards,"  he 
said  a  moment  later.  "  They  pull  well,  those 
fellows." 

But  we  too  pulled  well  then,  though  I  have  no 
right  to  say  it.  And  the  good  little  middy  and 
his  men  did  their  duty — oh,  what  a  tip  those 
blue-jackets  should  have  if  they  did  the  trick ! — 
and  the  noses  of  all  the  boats  seemed  to  be  tend- 
ing to  one  spot  on  the  bright  dancing  sea.  To 
one  spot  indeed  they  were  tending.  The  Turks 
were  no  more  than  twenty  yards  off,  the  English 
perhaps  thirty.  The  captain  gave  one  last  cry 
of  exhortation,  the  middy  responded  with  a 
hearty  oath.  We  strained  and  tugged  for  dear 


434  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

life.  They  were  on  us  now — the  Turks  a  little 
first.  Now  they  were  ten  yards  off — now  five — 
and  the  English  yet  ten  ! 

But  for  a  last  stroke  we  pulled  ;  and  then  I 
dropped  my  oars  and  sprang  to  my  feet.  The 
nose  of  the  captain's  boat  was  within  a  yard,  and 
they  were  backing  water  so  as  not  to  run  into  us. 
The  middy  had  given  a  like  order.  For  a  single 
instant  matters  seemed  to  stand  still  and  we  to 
be  poised  between  defeat  and  victory.  Then, 
even  as  the  captain's  hand  was  on  our  gunwale,  I 
bent  and  caught  Phroso  up  in  the  arms  that  she 
sprang  to  meet,  and  I  fairly  flung  her  across  the 
narrow  strait  of  water  that  parted  us  from  the 
English  boat.  Six  strong  and  eager  arms  re- 
ceived her,  and  a  cheer  rang  out  from  the  Eng- 
lish ship  ;  for  they  saw  now  that  it  had  been  a 
race — and  a  race  for  a  lady..  And  I,  seeing  her 
safe,  turned  to  the  captain,  and  said, — 

"  Fetch  her  back  from  there,  if  you  can,  and 
be  damned  to  you." 


CHAPTER  XXm. 
The  Island  in  a  Calm. 

WE  did  not  fight.  My  friend  the  captain  pro- 
posed to  rely  on  his  British  confrere  s  sense  of 
justice  and  of  the  courtesy  which  should  obtain 
between  two  great  and  friendly  nations.  To  this 
end  he  accompanied  us  on  board  the  ship  and 
laid  his  case  before  Captain  Beverley,  R.  N.  My 
argument,  which  I  stated  with  brevity  but  not 
without  vehemence,  was  threefold :  first,  that 
Phroso  had  committed  no  offence  ;  secondly,  that 
if  she  had,  it  was  a  political  offence  ;  thirdly — was 
Captain  Beverley  going  to  hand  over  to  a  crew 
of  dirty  Turks  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean ?  This  last  point  made  a  decided  impres- 
sion on  the  officers  who  were  assisting  their  com- 
mander's deliberations,  but  it  won  from  him  no 
more  than  a  tolerant  smile  and  a  glance  through 
his  pince-nez  at  Phroso,  who  sat  at  the  table  op- 
posite to  him,  awaiting  the  award  of  justice. 
After  I  had,  in  the  heat  of  discussion,  called  the 
Turks  "dirty,"  I  moved  round  to  my  friend  the 
captain,  apologised  humbly,  and  congratulated 
him  on  his  gallant  and  spirited  behaviour.  He 


436  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

received  my  advances  with  courtesy,  but  firmly 
restated  his  claim  to  Phroso.  Captain  Beverley 
appeared  a  little  puzzled. 

"And,  to  add  to  it  all,"  he  observed  to  me,  "  I 
thought  you  were  dead."  For  I  had  told  him 
my  name. 

"  Not  all  all,"  said  I  resentfully.  "  I  am  quite 
alive,  and  I'm  going  to  marry  this  lady." 

"  You  intend  to  marry  her,  Lord  Wheatley  ?  " 

"  She  has  done  me  the  honour  to  consent,  and 
I  certainly  intend  it — unless  you're  going  to  send 
her  off  to  Constantinople  or  heaven  knows 
where." 

Beverley  arched  his  brows,  but  it  was  not  his 
business  to  express  an  opinion,  and  I  heartily  for- 
gave him  his  hinted  disapproval  when  he  said  to 
the  captain, — 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  I  can  do  what  you 

ask.  If  you  had  won  the  tr I  mean,  if  you 

had  succeeded  in  taking  the  lady  on  board,  I 
should  have  had  no  more  to  say.  As  it  is,  I  don't 
think  I  can  do  anything  but  carry  her  to  a  Brit- 
ish port.  You  can  prefer  your  claim  to  extradi- 
tion before  the  Court  there,  if  you're  so  advised." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  Denny. 

"  Be  good  enough  to  hold  your  tongue,  sir," 
said  Captain  Beverley. 

"At  least  you  will  take  a  note  of  my  demand," 
urged  the  Turk. 


The  Island  in  a  Calm.  437 

"With  the  utmost  pleasure,"  responded  Cap- 
tain Beverley,  and  then  and  there  he  took  a  note. 
People  seem  often  to  find  some  mystical  com- 
fort in  having  _a  note  taken,  though  no  other 
consequence  appears  likely  to  ensue.  Then  the 
captain,  being  comforted  by  his  note,  took  his 
farewell.  I  walked  with  him  to  the  side  of  the 
vessel. 

"  I  hope  you  bear  no  malice,"  said  I,  as  I  held 
out  my  hand,  "and  that  this  affair  won't  get  you 
into  any  trouble." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so,"  said  he.  "Your  in- 
genuity will  be  my  excuse." 

"  You're  very  good.  I  hope  you'll  come  and 
see  us  in  Neopalia  some  day." 

"  You  expect  to  return  to  Neopalia  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  It's  mine — or  Phroso's — I  don't 
know  which." 

"  There's  such  a  thing  as  forfeiture  in  our  law," 
he  observed ;  and  with  this  Parthian  shot  he 
walked  down  and  got  into  his  boat.  But  I  was 
not  much  frightened. 

So,  the  Turk  being  thus  disposed  of,  Denny 
and  Hogvardt  went  back  to  the  yacht,  while 
Phroso,  Watkins,  and  I,  took  up  our  abode  on  the 
ship.  And  when  Captain  Beverley  had  heard 
the  whole  story  of  our  adventures  in  Neopalia  he 
was  so  overcome  by  Phroso's  gallant  conduct 
that  he  walked  up  and  down  his  own  deck  with 


438  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

her  all  the  evening,  while  I,  making  friends 
with  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness,  pretended 
to  look  very  pleased  and  recited  my  dealings 
with  Mouraki  to  an  attentive  group  of  officers. 
And  clothes  were  produced  from  somewhere  for 
Phroso — our  navy  is  ready  for  everything — and 
thus  in  the  fullness  of  time  we  came  to  Malta. 
Here  the  captain  had  a  wife  ;  and  she  was  as  de- 
lighted as — I  take  leave  to  say — all  good  women 
ought  to  be  at  the  happy  ending  of  our  story  ; 
and  at  Malta  we  waited.  But  nothing  happened. 
No  claim  was  made  for  Phroso's  extradition  ; 
and  I  may  as  well  state  here  that  no  claim  ever 
has  been  made.  But  when  we  came  to  London, 
on  baard  a  P.  and  O.  steamer,  in  charge  of  a 
benevolent  but  strict  chaperon,  I  lost  no  time  in 
calling  on  the  Turkish  Ambassador.  I  desired 
to  put  matters  on  a  satisfactory  footing  at  once. 
He  received  me  with  much  courtesy,  but  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  Phroso  and  I  alike  had 
forfeited  any  claim  which  she  or  I,  or  either,  or 
both,  of  us,  might  have  possessed  to  the  island  of 
Neopalia.  I  was  very  much  annoyed  at  this 
attitude ;  I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to  the 
fire. 

"  It  is  the  death  of  Mouraki  Pasha  that  has  so 
incensed  your  Government?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

"  He  was  a  very  distinguished  man,"  observed 
the  Ambassador. 


The  Island  in  a  Calm*  439 

"  Practically  banished  to  a  very  undistinguished 
office — for  his  position,"  I  remarked. 

"  One  would  not  call  it  banishment,"  mur- 
mured his  Excellency. 

"  One  w.ould,"  I  acquiesced,  smiling,  "  of  course 
be  particularly  careful  not  to  call  it  banishment." 

Something  like  a  smile  greeted  this  speech,  but 
the  Ambassador  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Consider,"  said  he,  "  the  scenes  of  disorder 
and  bloodshed !" 

"  When  I  consider,"  I  rejoined,  "  the  scenes  of 
disorder  and  bloodshed  which  passed  before  my 
eyes ;  when  I  consider  the  anarchy,  the  mur- 
der, the  terrible  dangers  to  which  I,  who  went 
to  Neopalia  under  the  sanction  and  protection  of 
your  flag,  was  exposed,  I  perceive  that  the  whole 
affair  is  nothing  less  than  a  European  scandal." 

The  Ambassador  shifted  in  his  arm-chair. 

"  I  shall,  of  course,"  said  I,  "  prefer  a  claim  to 
compensation." 

"  To  compensation  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  My  island  has  been  taken  from 
me  and  I  have  lost  my  money.  Moreover  your 
Governor  tried  to  kill  me." 

"So  did  your  wife,"  remarked  the  Pasha.  "At 
least  the  lady  who,  as  I  understand,  is  to  be 
your  wife." 

"  I  can  forgive  my  wife.  I  do  not  propose  to 
forgive  your  Government." 


44°  Phfoso:  A  Romance* 

The  Ambassador  stroked  his  beard. 

"  If  official  representations  were  made  through 
the  proper  quarters "  he  began. 

"  Oh,  come,"  I  interrupted,  "  I  want  to  spend 
my  honeymoon  there  ;  and  I'm  going  to  be  mar- 
ried in  a  fortnight." 

"  The  young  lady  is  the  difficulty.  The  man- 
ner in  which  you  left  Neopalia " 

" — is  not  generally  known,"  said  I. 

The  Ambassador  looked  up. 

"  The  tribute,"  I  observed,  "  is  due  a  month 
hence.  I  don't  know  who'll  pay  it  you." 

"  It  is  but  a  trifling  sum,"  said  he  contempt- 
uously. 

"  It  is  indeed  small  for  such  a  delightful  island." 

The  Ambassador  eyed  me  questioningly.  I 
advanced  towards  him. 

"  Considering,"  said  I,  "  that  I  have  only  paid 
half  the  purchase  money,  and  that  the  other  half 
is  due  to  nobody — or  to  my  own  wife — I  should 
not  resent  a  proposal  to  double  the  tribute." 

The  Ambassador  reflected. 

"  I  will  forward  your  proposal  to  the  proper 
quarter,"  he  said  at  last. 

I  smiled  ;  and  I  asked, — 

"  Will  that  take  more  than  a  fortnight?  " 

"  I  venture  to  hope  not." 

"And,  of  course,  pardon  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing  will  be  included." 


The  Island  in  a  Calm*  441 

"  I  will  appeal  to  his  Majesty's  clemency," 
promised  the  Pasha. 

I  had  no  objection  to  his  calling  it  by  that 
name,  and  I  took  my  leave,  very  much  pleased 
with  the  result  of  the  interview.  But,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  while  I  was  pursuing  my  way 
across  Hyde  Park — for  Phroso  was  staying  with 
a  friend  of  Mrs.  Beverley's  in  Kensington — I 
ran  plump  into  the  arms  of  Mrs.  Kennett  Hip- 
grave. 

She  stopped  me  with  decision  ;  I  confess  that 
I  tried  to  pass  by  her. 

"  My  dear  Lord  Wheatley,"  she  cried  with  un- 
bounded cordiality,  "  how  charming  to  meet  you 
again  !  Your  reported  death  really  caused  quite 
a  gloom." 

"You're  too  good,"  I  murmured.  "Ah 

er 1  hope  Miss  Beatrice  is  well?" 

Mrs.  Kennett  Hipgrave's  face  grew  grave  and 
sympathetic. 

"  My  poor  child  !  "  she  sighed.  "  She  was 
terribly  upset  by  the  news,  Lord  Wheatley.  Of 
course,  it  seemed  to  her  peculiarly  sad  ;  for  you 
had  received  my  letter  only  a  week  before." 

"  That  must  have  seemed  to  aggravate  the 
pathos  very  much,"  I  agreed. 

"  Not  that,  of  course,  it  altered  the  real  wisdom 
of  the  step  I  advised  her  to  take." 

"  Not  in  the  least,  really,  of  course,"  said  I. 


t 

442  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

"  I  do  hope  you  agree  with  me  now,  Lord 
Wheatley  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  have  come  to  see  that  you 
were  right,  Mrs.  Hipgrave." 

"  Oh,  that  makes  me  so  happy !  And  it  will 
make  my  poor  dear  child  so  happy,  too.  I  assure 
you  she  has  fretted  very  much  over  it." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  I  politely.  "  Is 
she  in  town  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  not  just  now." 

"  Where  is  she  ?  I  should  like  to  write  her  a 
line." 

*'  Oh,  she's  staying  with  friends." 

"  Could  you  oblige  me  with  the  address  ?  " 

"  Well the  fact  is,  Lord  Wheatley Be- 
atrice is  staying  with with  a  Mrs.  Hamlyn." 

"  Oh a  Mrs.  Hamlyn  !  Any  relation,  Mrs. 

Hipgrave  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  In  fact,  an  aunt  of  our  common 
friend." 

"Ah,  an  aunt  of  our  common  friend  ;"  and  I 
smiled.  Mrs.  Hipgrave  struggled  nobly,  but  in 
the  end  she  smiled  also.  After  a  little  pause  I 
remarked, — 

"  I'm  going  to  be  married  myself,  Mrs.  Hip- 
grave." 

Mrs.  Hipgrave  grew  rather  grave  again,  and 
she  observed, — 

"  I  did  hear  something  about  a a  lady, 

Lord  Wheatley." 


The  Island  in  a  Calm.  443 

"  If  you  had  heard  it  all,  you'd  have  heard  a 
great  deal  about  her." 

A  certain  appearance  of  embarrassment  spread 
over  Mrs.  Hipgrave's  face. 

"  We're  old  friends,  Lord  Wheatley,"  she  said 
at  last.  I  bowed  in  grateful  recognition.  "  I'm 
sure  you  won't  mind  if  I  speak  plainly  to  you. 
Now,  is  she  the  sort  of  person  whom  you  would 
be  really  wise  to  marry  ?  Remember,  your  wife 
will  be  Lady  Wheatley." 

"  I  had  not  forgotten  that  that  would  happen," 
I  said. 

"  I'm  told,"  pursued  Mrs.  Hipgrave,  in  a  some- 
what scornful  tone,  "  that  she  is  very  pretty." 

"  But  then  that's  not  really  of  importance,  is 
it  ?  "  I  murmured. 

Mrs.  Hipgrave  looked  at  me  with  just  a  touch 
of  suspicion  ;  but  she  went  on  bravely, — 

"And  one  or  two  very  curious  things  have 
been  said." 

"  Not  to  me,"  I  observed  with  infinite  amia- 
bility. 

"  Her  family  now ?  " 

"  Her  family  was  certainly  a  drawback ;  but 
there  are  no  more  of  them,  Mrs.  Hipgrave." 

"  Then  somebody  told  me  that  she  was  in  the 
habit  of  wearing " 

"  Dear  me,  Mrs.  Hipgrave,  in  these  days  every- 
body does  that — more  or  less,  you  know." 


444  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

Mrs.  Hipgrave  sighed  pathetically,  and  added 
with  a  slight  shudder, — 

"  They  say  she  carried  a  dagger." 

"  They'll  say  anything,"  I  reminded  her. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Mrs.  Hipgrave,  "  she  will 
be  quite  unused  to  the  ways  of  Society." 

"  Oh,  we  shall  teach  her,  we  shall  teach  her," 
said  I  cheerfully.  "  After  all,  it's  only  a  differ- 
ence of  method.  When  people  in  Neopalia  are 
annoyed,  they  put  a  knife  into  you " 

"  Good  gracious,  Lord  Wheatley  !  " 

"  Here,"  I  pursued,  "  they  congratulate  you ; 
but  it's  the  same  principle.  Won't  you  wish  me 
joy,  Mrs.  Hipgrave?" 

"  If  you're  really  bent  upon  it,  I  suppose  I 
must." 

"  And  you'll  tell  the  dear  children  ?  "  I  asked 
anxiously. 

"  The  dear  children  ?  "  she  echoed  ;  she  cer- 
tainly suspected  me  by  now. 

"  Why,  yes.  Your  daughter  and  Bennett 
Hamlyn,  you  know." 

Mrs.  Hipgrave  surveyed  me  from  top  to  toe ; 
her  aspect  was  very  severe.  Then  she  delivered 
herself  of  the  following  remark, — 

"  I  can  never  be  sufficently  thankful,"  she  said, 
with  eyes  upturned  towards  the  sky,  "  that  my 
poor  dear  girl  found  out  her  mistake  in  time." 

"  I  have  the  utmost  regard  for  Miss  Beatrice," 


The  Island  in  a  Calm.  445 

I  rejoined,  "but  I  will  not  differ  from   you,  Mrs. 
Hipgrave." 

I  must  shift  the  scene  again,  back  to  the  island 
that  I  loved.  For  his  Majesty's  clemency  justi- 
fied the  Ambassador's  belief  in  it,  and  Neopalia 
was  restored  to  Phroso  and  to  me.  Thither  we 
went  in  the  spring  of  the  next  year,  leaving 
Denny  inconsolable  behind,  but  accompanied  by 
old  Hogvardt  and  by  Watkins.  This  time  we 
went  straight  out  by  sea  from  England,  and  the 
new  crew  of  my  yacht  was  more  trustworthy 
than  when  Spiro  and  Demetri  (ah,  I  had  nearly 
written  "  poor  "  Demetri — when  the  fellow  was  a 
murderer!)  were  sent  by  the  cunning  of  Con- 
stantine  Stefanopoulos  to  compose  it.  We 
landed  this  time  to  meet  no  threatening  looks ; 
the  death-chant  that  One-eyed  Alexander  wrote 
was  not  raised  when  we  entered  the  old  grey 
house  on  the  hill,  looking  over  the  blue  waters. 
Ulysses  is  fabled  by  the  poet  to  have — well,  to 
put  it  plainly — to  have  grown  bored  with  peace- 
ful Ithaca.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  prove 
an  Ulysses  in  that  and  live  to  regret  the  new- 
born tranquillity  of  Neopalia.  In  candour,  the 
early  stormy  days  have  a  great  attraction  and  I 
love  to  look  back  to  them  in  memory.  So  strong 
was  this  feeling  upon  me  that  it  led  me  to  refuse 
a  request  of  my  wife's — the  only  one  of  hers 


446  Phroso:  A  Romance* 

which  I  have  yet  met  in  that  fashion.  For  when 
we  had  been  two  or  three  days  in  the  island  (I 
spent  one,  by  the  way,  in  visiting  the  graves  of 
my  dead  friends  and  enemies, — a  most  suggestive 
and  soothing  occupation)  I  saw,  as  I  walked  with 
her  through  the  hall  of  our  house,  mason's  tools 
and  mortar  lying  near  where  the  staircase  led  up, 
hard  by  the  secret  door.  And  Phroso  said  to 
me, — 

"  I'm  sure  you'd  like  to  have  that  horrible 
secret  passage  blocked  up,  Charley.  It's  full  of 
terrible  memories." 

"  My  dear  Phroso,  wall  up  the  passage  ?  " 

"  We  sha'n't  want  it  now,"  said  she  with  a 
laugh — and  something  else. 

"  It's  true,"  I  admitted,  "  that  I  intend,  as  far 
as  possible,  to  rule  by  constitutional  means  in 
Neopalia.  Still  one  never  knows.  My  dearest, 
have  you  no  romance  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Phroso  shamelessly.  "  I've  had 
enough  romance.  I  want  to  live  quietly ;  and  I 
don't  want  to  push  any  one  over  into  that  awful 
pool,  where  poor  Kortes  fell." 

I  stood  looking  at  the  boards  under  the  stair- 
case ;  presently  I  knelt  down  and  touched  the 
spring.  The  boards  rolled  away,  the  passage 
gaped  before  us,  and  I  put  my  arm  round  Phroso, 
as  I  said, — 

"  Now,  heaven  forbid  that  I  should  lay  a  mod- 


The  Island  in  a  Calm.  447 

ern  sacrilegious  hand  on  the  Secret  of  the  Ste- 
fanopouloi !  For  the  world  makes  many  circles, 
Phroso, — forward  sometimes,  sometimes  back; 
and  it  is  something  to  know  that  here  in  Neopa- 
lia  we  are  ready,  and  that  if  any  man  attacks  our 
sovereignty,  why,  let  him  look  out  for  the  Secret 
of  the  Stefanopouloi  !  In  certain  moods,  Phroso, 
I  should  be  capable  of  coming  back  from  the 
chasm — alone  !  " 

So  Phroso,  on  my  entreaty,  spared  the  pas- 
sage ;  and  even  now,  when  the  shades  of  middle 
age  (a  plague  on  'em)  are  deepening,  and  the  wild 
doings  of  the  purchaser  of  Neopalia  grow  golden 
in  distant  memory,  I  like  to  walk  to  the  edge  of 
the  chasm  and  recall  all  that  it  has  seen :  the 
contests,  the  dark  tricks,  the  sudden  deaths, — 
aye,  to  travel  back  from  the  fearful  struggle  of 
Kortes  and  Constantine  on  the  flying  bridge  to 
that  long-ago  time  when  the  Baron  d'Ezonville 
was  so  lucky  as  to  be  set  adrift  in  his  shirt,  while 
Stefan  Stefanopoulos'  headless  trunk  was  dashed 
into  the  dim  water  and  One-eyed  Alexander  the 
Bard  wrote  the  chant  of  death.  Ah  me!  that 
was  two  hundred  years  ago  ! 


THE  END. 


DUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FAC'U-v 


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